Ivan Kupala Day or The Search for the Fern Flower
by ratsister
Summary: What happens on the most magical night of midsummer when America begrudgingly agrees to celebrate the holiday of Ivan Kupala with Russia? Feasting, Dancing, Bonfires, Magic, Exploration in the Russian Forest. Human & Country names used. Rus/Ame
1. Chapter 1

_Wherein America in introduced to the Russian holiday of Ivan Kupala!This fic follows America's experiences on this, one of the most magical times in the Russian forest._

_(An excellent midsummer holiday, which includes feasting, dancing, bonfires. divination by the unmarried maidens who float handmade wreathes of wildflowers in the River, and nighttime journeys into the forest at its most magical time, in search of the elusive, mythological fern flower. With the advent of Christianity came the addition of a baptism theme as Kupala became Ivan Kupala (Ivan being the Russian equivalent to John) But even in pagan times, water was a major part of the festivities, and even the most superstitious peasant swam on this day, unafraid of the Rusalka or any other water spirits.)_

_Rated M for later...shinanigans. :D_

_I don not own Hetalia, etc._

_Both Country and Human names used.  
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_Look up Ivan Kupala day, its pretty rad! _

Alfred Jones rushed through the house, he was running late to the meeting again. God, he could just see England's disapproving face, and chances were Germany would threaten to make him do pushups...again.

_Like he could make me!_ America thought proudly as he rushed to open the door.

'Creeeaack' ... Splash!

Suddenly, inexplicably, he was all wet.

"What the fuck?" the soaking blonde swore loudly, removing Texas to dry them on the only undrenched corner of his shirt.

America returned his glasses to his face and looked around. No one.

He stepped further through the doorway. Nothing.

He turned to look back at his doorway. He looked up. He nearly had a heart attack.

"RUSSIA- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? YOU TRYIN' TO START A WAR?"

The large nation was perched comically on top of America's door frame holding a now empty bucket.

Russia looked confused and hopped down to the porch. "No, America, I am celebrating our friendship, Our bosses are working toward friendship, da?"

"Are you kidding me? Is this how friends treat eachother in Russia? Dropping buckets of water on them when they're late for a meeting?" Alfred's eyes narrowed in suspicion realizing the Russian was late too.

"Hey... why aren't you there already?" He crossed soaked arms and glared at the unnervingly smiling nation.

Ivan laughed, his violet eyes twinkling. "Amerika, this is Ivan Kupala! I am excused from the meeting today, as are my sisters, Lithuania, Latvia, and Poland! He smiled widely. "You can stop worrying about being late. I already told them all you were celebrating with me this year!"

"WHAT?" America yelled, stepping away from the lunatic holding the bucket.

The Russian simply went on undeterred. "And don't be offended, Amerika, the water is just a prank, a part of Tvorilla night!" He looked seriously at the American. "I waited all night for you to leave your home."

"Tvo- what?" He asked bewildered, before catching on to the rest of what Ivan had said.

"You...waited...oh my god!" Alfred shook a dripping finger at the other nation. "You were on my door all night? Thats trespassing! Invasion!"

Alfred sighed as Ivan stood there smiling. "But look at my clothes...I'm all wet, how do you expect me to go to some weird Russian party all soaked to the bone?"

"Ah! So you will go!" Russia grinned widely. "Do not worry about clothes! I brought some for you – you should wear traditional clothing today."

"Hey now, I didn't say I'd go!" America was quick to rectify the misunderstanding, he didn't want any of those with the unpredictable nation. "...and wait, what do you mean traditional clothing?"

Still grinning, Ivan produced a white tunic, embroidered in red and green designs, a pair of red, wide legged pants, and the whole outfit was completed when he produced a pair of knee high black boots, a sash, and one of those fluffy hats.

"Oh HELL no." America crossed his arms again, "Anyway, I don't see you wearing that!"

Ivan shrugged and opened his coat. Alfred's blue eyes went wide. The Russian was wearing a nearly identical outfit to the one he proposed to America. The only difference being that the pants were black, the sash red, and the embroidery black, red, and blue.

"Oh..." America looked dazed. "Oh, yeah...I guess I remember you wearing that...its been a while."

Before the loud mouthed country could argue again, Russia stepped forward. "You will like Ivan Kupala day, Amerika. We feast, there are many, many sweets and I know how you like sweets, we jump over bonfires to get rid of bad luck, it is a great party all night out in the country, where the sunflowers grow!"

Ivan paused. "We explore the forest. I know how you like to explore, Amerika."

Hmm...it did actually sound pretty fun, more fun than a meeting for sure. And its not like it would just be him and Russia. It sounded like they would be partying it up with Poland, Lithuania, and Ukraine, and their people. Sure, Belarus was kind of a wrench in any good idea, so Alfred wasn't looking forward to seeing her, but at least he got along with the other three.

"Sweets?" He looked suspiciously at the Russian. "And Toris, Felicks, and Katyusha will be there too?"

"Da!" Ivan glowed, his face, a picture of joy. "And, Amerika, there will be so many sweets for you to choose from!"

America glared at Russia for a moment and then gave in. "Ok, I'll go. Give me the clothes so I can go change." He held out a hand and accepted the stack of garments.

"Oh no, no, I am not wearing that hat." Alfred pushed the ushanka into the Russian's chest.

Ivan sighed. "Very well, Amerika. It has become out of fashion lately anyway." He turned the furry hat in his hands. "Though I still love it."

Alfred walked back through the door to his living room. He stopped, and turned around. "Well? What are you standing around for?"

Russia looked at him quizzically. "You have not invited me in yet."

"Oh, this is what you wait for? You sure didn't ask me if you could hang out on my porch all night long!"

As the Russian just looked at him, his tiny smile wavering, Alfred waved him in.

"Yeah, yeah. C'mon in, just stay in here." He pointed to the living room as he himself sloshed down a side hall to the bathroom to shed his soaking clothes.

20 minutes later, America finally emerged. He fidgeted with the sash around his waist and adjusted his hat...his 100% American, brown suede, worn, beloved cowboy hat.

Ivan chuckled behind his hand. "You look good in my clothes, Amerika."

"God! Stop being such a wierdo!" Alfred said, walking toward the door.

"Well, lets go then!" He motioned Ivan forward. "There better not be any other watery booby traps waiting. You go first."

The Russian shrugged and walked through the door ahead of the American.

_His clothes. Pssch._ Alfred knew he looked good in anything.

End of the 1st installment of Ivan Kupala day!

Oh please review, I HUNGER for your thoughts!


	2. Chapter 2  Wildflowers and the Wind

_Ivan Kupala Day or The Search for the Fern Flower Part 2!_

_I don't own hetalia, etc, etc. _

_Enjoy the magic that is Ivan Kupala day! I hope you all who looked it up are now as enamored with it as I am!_

….

After a long, strange flight, followed by a long strange train ride, Russia and America eventually arrived at an isolated rural station. The entire trip was punctuated by moments when America would often catch Russia staring at him, and loudly ask, "Dude! What? Stop being weird!" after which Russia would look away momentarily before resuming his gaze.

After stepping off the train, Alfred turned to Ivan skeptically. "Ok, Ruski – I don't see any party, just you, me, and a whole lotta nothin' else! What are you trying to pull here?"

The Russian merely smiled as he had been the entire trip. "Amerika, why don't you trust me?" He didn't give Alfred time to answer the loaded question, but went on, gesturing toward a stand of trees in the distance. "Just around the trees…there you can see the ribbons? The party is just beginning."

Alfred was still suspicious of the crafty Russian, but he did see brightly colored ribbons waving in the breeze…

As they walked through the field of wildflowers and tall grasses America noticed Russia becoming more and more lighthearted. The large nation had even removed his coat and was carrying it in the crook of his arm while scooping up various flowers as they passed.

"For my sestri." Ivan explained, "Sisters." He continued smiling easily, "Today there will be no talk of politics."

Still smiling that tiny smile, the violet eyed man tapped a daisy against America's chest. "You will remember that as well, da?" His eyes narrowed to amethyst slits. "Especially with Ukraine?"

But Alfred was too distracted to really care; they had gotten close enough to hear laughter and talk coming from around the grove. Laughter, talk, and the sweet smell of freshly baked goods wafted on the air from around the grouping of trees.

America turned toward Russia, "So, what kind of sweets do you have here exactly?" His stomach was growling, and Alfred realized he actually hadn't eaten that morning. He had intended to just stop at the McDonald's drive-through on the way to the meeting. Of course he was now in a meadow in Southwestern Russia….and was fairly sure the nearest Mickey D's was definitely a little more than a short drive away.

Ivan looked off distantly, thinking over all the sweet treats that had graced last years tables. "Well, America, we have cakes like the ones we…" violet eyes clouded slightly as the Russian's brow knit for a second, "like the ones my old, old bosses enjoyed." His eyes cleared as though there had been no change as he continued. "There is also sweet cold cherry soup, sweet berry and quark variniki, many, many kinds of what you call jello; We will also have forest berry perogi, honey cake…,"

Russia continued, counting off on his fingers, as America's blue eyes were widening and glazing over. "Chocolates from my home and my sister Belarus's; oh as well as Poland's white chocolates, I believe you have had them before, da?" When there came no answer, but a slight drool from his guest, Russia went on, "Syrniki and Kissel – which trust me Amerika, you will love; Berry spoon sweets, which are mouthfuls of sugary berries each in their own spoon." He stopped to think for a moment. "Oh! Of course, Katyusha will bring her famous Kiev cake, and," The Russian paused, grinning wide, "I asked Lithuania to bring his spurgos, you know, his fruit filled doughnuts?"

The American's blue eyes were wider than the Russian had ever seen them, and as Alfred stood there doing nothing but staring at him and slightly drooling, Ivan began to worry that the younger nation had had a stroke.

"Amerika?" He asked, concerned.

Suddenly Alfred came back from the sugared dream to which his mind had immediately run away. As the violet eyed man leaned close peering in each glazed eye, the American jumped and grabbed onto the Russian's embroidered collar.

"DOUGHNUTS? YOU FUCKING HAVE DOUGHNUTS? OH MY GOD, I COULD KISS YOU!"

America pulled him into a tight hug and jumped up and down, lifting the heavier nation. Shocked, Russia had to remind himself of America's super strength.

_Wait, Amerika could kiss me?_ Russia thought to himself stunned into speechlessness. It had been longer than he could remember since he had been embraced by someone, and he didn't think it had ever been simply because the other had wanted to.

Before Ivan could gather any more of an answer other than a stammered "Da….?" Alfred stopped jumping up and down and taking the Russian's free hand in one of his own, and holding onto his beloved suede cowboy hat with the other, the American pulled the stunned Russian behind him as he ran through the flowered meadow toward the trees and the sparkling river that wound around them.

As soon as the two men turned around the grove, Alfred squealed delightedly and after squeezing Ivan's hand he let go and ran off to greet his friends and sample the various treats covering the tables that ringed a large woodpile in the pit at the center of the smaller circular meadow.

Russia stood at the edge a moment longer taking in the scene. America, looking comically adorable in his cowboy hat paired with Ivan's traditional folk clothing was running around the tables greeting each friend enthusiastically as he sampled a little of each nation's contributions.

The smaller meadow ended just outside the circled area where his older sister had set up the festival site. A winding river curled around one side of the meadow to disappear into the cool green shade of the forest that stretched past the valley as far the eye could see.

As America stuffed his face with cakes, chocolates, and doughnuts and then ran off happily to plop down beside Ukraine who was working on wreathes of flowers with Belarus, Russia hummed to himself as he too entered the enclosed meadow.

The area was soon full of the people of all the various nations who celebrated the holiday. Russia smiled happily as he watched his people eating, drinking, and dancing with those of Lithuania, Poland, Latvia, Ukraine, and Belarus. Well, he did try to avoid the Byelorussians.

While Russia walked among his people, appearing to all simply as one of them, reminiscing on times passed, America was thoroughly enjoying his sugar high.

Wiping the glaze from his mouth the American finished the last of Toris' doughnuts he had brought with him to the river's edge. "Man, I forgot how well Lithuania cooks!" He said leaning back in the soft grass beside Russia's older sister and looking into the bright cloudless sky above.

"Yes, he is a good cook…Amerika, could you please get off my foxglove?" Ukraine asked politely.

Alfred sat up quickly. "Sorry Kat!"

As she picked up the long sprig of yellow bell-shaped flowers, he noticed she, like all the others around him were each constructing something out of them.

"Hey, Ukraine," He scooted closer and leaned over her shoulder, "Whatcha makin'?"

"I am making a wreath, its part of the tradition of Ivan Kupala day for the-" But America immediately cut her off when he saw the grouping of wildflowers she had picked and arranged in bundles in front of her.

" Hey – I know some of those flowers!" America excitedly pointed to the bundles and began naming off the ones that grew in his homeland. "Roses – they're my flower you know!" He pointed to the soft pink wild rose that grew all over Eastern Europe and so resembled his own. "And, primroses, poppies, daisies! These all grow in my prairie!"

He then picked up one of the giant sunflower blossoms, "Woah that's a big sunflower! I have these too! Just not quite as big – they grow all over the plains!"

Ukraine opened her mouth to say that that sounded lovely, but in his sugar induced energy, America just went on. "So these wreaths look fun! I'll make one too! I'll use all the flowers that grow at home!" Alfred set about selecting the flowers he had identified and arranging them.

"So how do you do it?" He asked excitedly.

_Oh, Amerika is having fun at one of my holidays!_ Katyusha didn't want to upset the friendly, more powerful nation, and so instead of telling him that wreaths were made by the unmarried women as a way to divine who will marry that year, who they will marry, or if they will find bad luck, she decided to help him construct his wreath. _What could the harm be?_

"Well, America, the most important thing is that it floats. You should place the largest flattest flowers along the bottom."

It didn't take long to complete. Soon Alfred stood, and dusting his full red pants he admired his handiwork. His wreath had a base of the large bright sunflowers, held together by long pliant-stemmed daisies, primroses and poppies, the wild roses interspersed between the sunflowers.

America turned, hearing a light chuckle behind him.

"Amerika, what a beautiful wreath; I really like the sunflowers, you know they are my favorite, da?" Russia smiled as his American guest bent to pick up his wreath from the ground.

"Yeah, so what? I like them too!" Alfred responded. "You know the sunflower is the state flower of Kansas," He jabbed a thumb to his chest proudly. "My heartland is covered in them in the summer; right now – waving in the wind, like my amber waves in the autumn!"

Alfred stood there proudly holding his wreath, his chin raised high as though he was offering asylum to sunflowers all over the world from the threat of communism.

"Amerika…You, you never told me sunflowers grow in your heart."

But something happened before Alfred could notice the look Ivan was giving him, which was as though he was seeing him for the first time, or the nervous expression on Russia's older sister's face as Katyusha glanced from one super power to the other, or that Russia's younger sister was now standing stock still a few feet away holding her own sunflower covered wreath in a clenched fist.

No, he didn't notice any of that, instead his attention was drawn to Poland, who had just joined the group by the water's edge.

"Pozdrowienia, Ameryka! Like, hello! I see you made a wreath too! Having a good Noc Świętojańska?" Feliks smiled brightly, wearing his own extravagant wreath of wildflowers on his head.

"Uh, having a good what?" America looked to his long time ally with confusion.

"That's what we call this holiday in Polska! It's like totally better, right?" Poland beamed, unafraid, even though Russia was beginning to radiate dark purple shadows beside him.

"Oh that's cool," Alfred grinned. "Yeah I'm having a great time so far!"

Russia's ominous shadows began to recede somewhat. The small smile returned to his face. "You are? I am glad to hear that Amerika!"

Poland went on. "Making a wreath is like so much fun, who cares if it's for the girls! They're just so fantastic! Do you like have someone in mind to get it? Oh…" Feliks stopped and looked to Russia who was giving him what could only be described as the evil eye.

Completely undaunted, Poland grinned and nudged the larger nation in the side. "Well, I guess things have like, totally warmed up since the cold war, huh? It's like a whole new century and all for sure!

"What? These are for girls?" America rounded on Ukraine. "You didn't tell me that!" and then turning back to Poland, he added, "wait, whaaaat?"

"Oh, you didn't know? Well, you like totally made the perfect wreath with all those sunflowers, and aren't roses your thing?" Poland laughed and moving away from Russia which was luckier than he realized. Feliks placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder and pointed him toward the river.

"See, the girls who aren't yet married, or…you know, uh, in, like an alliance, or you know, like a…common wealth…" he trailed off looking across the river to where Lithuania was helping Latvia light the bonfire.

"Hey, hey man, unmarried girls do what?" Alfred waved a hand in front of Felik's face to get his attention. America certainly was no girl. He looked over his shoulder to where Russia was edging closer to the river's edge a few feet away, backing away from Belarus who was attempting to get him to look at her wreath.

"Sorry Ameryka, The unmarried girls like, you know, make these wreaths and put them in the river, or stream, or like, whatever, and if they float they will have like good luck all year, if they sink they like get totally bad luck, and what they all really want is for it to drift to like, their boyfriend, who often will like get in the water to try to be the one it, you now, like runs into!" Feliks grinned wider and winked. "If it bumps into the girl's boyfriend, they will like totally get married by the end of the year, its like totally fate or something!"

Alfred felt his face get hot. He turned and marched immediately along the river bank toward Russia.

He stood, shaking the wreath in his hands; he'd just stepped in front of Belarus who was now glowering at his back.

Ivan's face was temporarily relived, as he had seemingly been saved from his terrifying younger sister. The relief was short lived.

"I am not a girl! I did not make this wreath as some romantic gesture! I am sooooo, sooooo, not interested in marrying anyone! I'm a lone wolf, a free man, independent! You can't fence in America buddy!"

Russia's smile slowly returned as America continued to defend his manly independence.

"I know, Amerika. I would not dream of trying to control you. _Ok, so that was a little bit of a lie, he had dreamed about America becoming one with him instead of fighting with him all the time, but it'd been 50 years ago, so why bring it up now?_

"Hmmph. Good, 'Cause nobody can control me!" Alfred was face to face with Ivan now, their noses mere inches away. The American threw his wreath dismissively off to the side.

...

'Splash'

Both men turned toward the sound. As did a fuming Belarus, nervous Ukraine, laughing Poland, and the unsuspecting Lithuania who had just arrived to tell everyone that the fire was going.

The well made wreath floated atop the river's smoothly running current. There were no others yet as the sun had not quite set and was still high in the western sky. The large flat sunflowers kept it buoyant. The poppies, primroses, and daisies held it together, and the roses drifted their light scent on the air.

The wind turned and blew through Ivan's silvery hair and then Alfred's golden beside him as they watched the current pick up. The wreath was floating back toward the river's edge, both men stood still, watching it.

Ivan was silent. Alfred continued to mumble, looking now to the Russian instead of the river. "Look, I'm serious, I'm a strong country! I do manly things! I just made that wreath cause I have those flowers too, and I mean, it is America the beautiful, you know, I can do—" He stopped suddenly. Russia had looked down at his feet.

America's blue eyes widened as he followed Russia's gaze.

The river had risen slightly to lap against their feet; Alfred's wreath bumped into the toe of Ivan's boot. One soft pink rose petal broke free and swirled around in the current before washing up to stick to the side of the Russian's booted foot.

"Ah….." Russia whispered, turning wide violet eyes to America's blue ones as he stooped to pick up the wreath.

_End of Chapter 2, TBC of course._

_Thank you for all the lovely reviews on ch 1 and the even more plentiful faves and whatnot. I look forward to your reviews of ch 2! _

_As always, on the edge of my seat, with bated breath, I long for your opinions! _

_Spasiba! (Thank you) _


	3. Chapter 3 Fire and Poetry

_Ivan Kupala Day or The Search for the Fern Flower continues with Part 3!_

_Enjoy!_

"Ah…."

Ivan straightened, Alfred's wreath in hand, his wide violet eyes still locked onto the equally surprised blue ones.

As Russia stood with America's wreath silently, several things happened at once.

Poland laughed loudly and congratulated them on the upcoming wedding, to which the Lithuanian beside him began to shudder involuntarily and stammered "Wha-what?" as he stared at the wreath in the Russian's hands.

Ukraine, still seated on the ground surrounded by her flowers blushed, her expression a mix of worry and hope.

Belarus let loose a pained cry and tore her sunflower wreath to shreds and ran into the shadows of the forest cursing America's lands to spoil.

America looked down at the wreath, over to Poland, who he had _thought _was an ally, back to the wreath, up to the Russian's violet eyes, back to the wreath, back to the eyes.

"What the hell is this, some kind of commie trick?" Alfred backed away, his hands returning to his hips.

Russia closed the space between them, and still looking America in the eyes as though they were the only ones there, he spoke quietly. "You know, Amerika, I am not technically communist anymore."

Alfred clearly didn't know what to say; the blonde stood there open mouthed, for once speechless. Ivan looked to the waters of the now calm river; he looked to the leaves of the forest swaying in the breeze. Russia had grown up a superstitious nation, and did not want to offend the spirits that occupied the waters, the forests, or controlled the winds. Violet eyes looked back into blue ones again, this time remembering them as they had been before the addition of Texas. Though he would not admit it now, Alfred had grown up superstitious as well, terrified of witches, ghosts, and black cats. What would America make of this? Would he be afraid to anger fate? Was he as intrigued as Russia found himself to be? Would the action Ivan was about to take be met with acceptance, maybe even, did he dare to hope, interest? Or would the impulsive nation take it as grounds for all out war?

The violet eyed man really didn't know, but decided to take the chance anyway. As the others stood there watching the unfolding scene between the powerful countries, Ivan lifted the circlet of flowers.

"Amerika…Traditionally, I am supposed to put the wreath on your head now."

The younger nation stood still, and Ivan wasn't sure what Alfred was thinking, but continued as he placed the wreath atop the American's western hat where it settled onto the suede brim. "I do not want to anger fate. I must assume the wind knows why it blows where it does…how it chooses, who it chooses." Russia stood back and looked over America, waiting for the reaction.

The wheels seemed to be turning in the blonde's mind. America's hands slipped from his hips, his eyes looked to the river, and then somewhat tremulously to the shadows along the forest's edge. When sky blue eyes turned back to meet violet, Ivan's heart skipped. Was there something more there? He could have sworn there was a slight gleam, a gleam akin to when he had mentioned doughnuts.

Russia wasn't entirely sure about what a relationship with America would entail…but he had to admit he was more than intrigued to find out. What had begun as an attempt at friendship was quickly turning into more. Something had been stirring within him through the day, ever since Alfred had accepted his clothes, even with the cowboy hat…honestly, America's eccentricities only added to his appeal.

America stepped forward, and raised a hand to the wreath on his hat. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, his attention was diverted to Latvia, who had run up to the group still standing around the two men at the water's edge.

The small nation appeared to take in the scene at once and blurted, "I didn't know you two were seeing eachother!" The short blonde looked from Russia to America and back to Russia. "Maybe now I can grow tall?"

A strangled gasp left Lithuania as he fainted into Poland's arms at Latvia's audacity.

Russia didn't even spare a glance to Latvia's question or to the unconscious Lithuania. His eyes were only for America as he waited for a reaction.

Alfred wasn't entirely sure what to do. He looked around at the group surrounding them and then back to Russia. Who was just…staring. _What a weirdo. _But that weirdo had been pretty cool lately, America had to admit. Russia had invited him to this holiday, and hadn't done anything to him, it hadn't been a trick…

Alfred stood there, his hand on the wreath atop his hat. Memories began to come back as he went over his experiences with the other nation. Things had been tense for such a long time, he had kind of forgotten that they had ever gotten along. Suddenly there was the image of a very different Russia standing by him as he fought for independence; they were allied together during the Boxer rebellion, and again during World War I before Russia's own revolution…man had that been something. Of course he'd also come around to the winning side in World War II…

_Yeah, maybe Russia isn't all bad_. Alfred felt his face grow hot as he blushed. Ivan was really good at poetry. Not that he had ever admitted to any other nation that 'The Heritage of Russian Verse' was usually one of the books not gathering dust on his bookshelf, or that Pasternak and Yevtushenko were some of his favorites. In fact, he'd never admit to anyone that he even liked poetry. It was bad enough that England had seen his complete works of Shakespeare. God, Arthur would never stop gloating about that.

"Ok…I don't know what exactly _this_ means, Ruski." Alfred stepped closer to Ivan and pointed to the wreath. "But I am not some girl, I am not out looking for my knight in shining armor or anything – Don't think this means I'm 'one with you', ya got it?"

The small smile returned to Ivan's lips. "Clearly, Amerika." He leaned in closer. "and I know you aren't a girl…but those flowers do look nice on you."

"Hmmph!" _They did though…_Alfred thought before he grinned. "That's 'cause these all grow in the good ol' U.S of A!" He tipped his hat to Russia and determined to express as much masculinity as possible, he looked over the slightly taller nation's shoulder at the blazing bonfire across the bend in the river. "So, whats up with the fire? You said something about jumping it?"

Russia smiled and turned to look at the fire with America who, he noticed had moved up to stand beside him. "Da. When you leap over the fire, it cleanses you of all negative energy and bad luck."

Both were still oblivious to the others surrounding them; Latvia, now sitting with Ukraine, Lithuania slowly coming too as Poland waved his wreath across the brunettes face.

Alfred grinned widely at Ivan. He knew just the super amazing ultra-masculine thing to do. "Race ya?"

The Russian chuckled. "I believe I won our last race, da?"

The American rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, you launched a satellite…" Alfred turned to face Ivan fully, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "I," he jabbed a thumb to his chest and jutted his chin out proudly, "landed on the MOON, man!"

Not even waiting for Russia to respond, America laughed fully and took off at full speed around the edge of the river. "Think you can keep up, Ruski?" He called over his shoulder, taunting the Russian.

There was no answer, not even a sound in reply. Alfred slowed and looked to see if the Russian had even joined him in the race…he had to, right?

It was as Alfred slowed to look over his shoulder that he saw Russia. The other nation had swum _across_ the river instead of running around it! He was now _ahead_ of Alfred.

_That sneaky commie bastard!_ Alfred thought as he sped to catch up with Ivan. As he ran, America's grin only widened. He had forgotten how much fun competing against Ivan had been…yeah, there was the spying, the ideological differences, the constant threat that Russia might push the button before him…but, hey, no one's perfect, right?

Soon the two were neck and neck and nearing the bonfire. Alfred could feel the heat as they approached and he zoned in his focus and pushed himself, intent on reaching it first.

Ivan watched Alfred speed up out of the corner of his eye and pumped his long legs to match the Americans. God, he had missed this!

Russia and America's legs moved in time with eachother as they made it to the bonfire and leaped forward. Both Ivan and Alfred crested the fire at the same second; The Russian's long legs lifted high in an impressive jump only centuries of ballet could achieve as beside him the American ignored the flames licking at his boots, waving his hat high in the air.

"Yeeeehaaww!" Alfred waved his wreathe-encircled hat high above both their heads.

Both men were laughing as they landed and came to a stop. Catching his breath, Ivan looked to Alfred as the other panted, holding his hat against his chest.

"Well, Russia, 'looks like I win again!" the blonde smiled cockily and reached an arm around the other's broad shoulders.

"Oh? Nyet, Amerika. I think we are tied, da?" Violet eyes narrowed suspiciously, though the small smile stayed in place.

Alfred twirled his hat as they walked away from the fire together. "Maybe we got there at the same time, but I definitely jumped the highest!"

"Mmm." Russia decided on a non committal sound, but in the end couldn't keep from arguing with the boisterous nation. "I do not think your hat counts, Amerika."

"Of course it does! What about that scarf?" He stopped and turned to face Ivan, and took the ends of the Russian's ever-present scarf in one hand lightly, toying with the edges.

Russia blushed as he watched America playing with his scarf. He had actually lost interest in arguing. _Who cared who ran fastest or jumped highest?_, Ivan thought to himself. Well…he still did, but he knew he had actually jumped the highest, and so let it go.

The sun was beginning to slip beyond the horizon now, and as the unmarried women (and Feliks) were floating their wreathes in the river in hopes of good luck and marriage, many more young couples were leaping the fire together or dancing in the twilit valley to the sounds of lively folk music.

Russia turned to tell America that they could just agree to disagree on the exact outcome of the race, but stopped, seeing Alfred removing the wreath from his hat.

At the look on Ivan's face, Alfred bit at his lip guiltily. "Look, I just can't have this on my hat all night, everyone will think I'm all…girly or something!"

Russia pouted. "But Amerika, it is tradition."

Alfred was pretty sure he'd never seen Ivan pout. Russia simply did not 'pout'. It was new and…well, kind of hot. Still, a suddenly attractive Russia did not warrant him wearing a girly wreathe on his head all night.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not wearing it." He placed the flowerless hat back on his head and crossed his arms, the wreathe dangling from one hand.

Ivan knew there was a reason for the wind turning and sending Alfred's wreathe to him. He just knew America was supposed to wear it. Russia turned to the only thing he knew would get the response he needed.

He chanted softly, almost at a whisper, "kolkolkolkolkolkol..."

The blonde stood his ground.

When even this, and the threatening aura radiating from him failed to get Alfred to return the wreath to his hat, Ivan changed tactics.

"Pazhaloosta? Please, keep one flower." Ivan plucked one of the smaller sunflowers, still quite large compared to American sunflowers, and tucked it into the braided suede along the base of Alfred's hat.

The look in the other man's pale violet eyes as he placed the sunflower into Alfred's hat pulled at his heart. America had seen hope, curiosity, and a touch of sadness there. He allowed the sunflower to stay.

Looking down to the wreath in his hands, Alfred suddenly had an idea – a way to even it all out. If Ivan wanted him to wear his sunflower, fine.

"Only if you wear one too. That way it's not just me with the flowers on!" The American plucked a rose from the wreath in his hand. Russia shrugged and agreed. Alfred stepped up close to place the soft, pink wild rose behind Ivan's ear.

When he stepped back, America smiled nervously. "You know, it suits you." He said, surprised at his own words.

Russia returned the American's smile with his own. "So does the sunflower suit you, Alfred. Eto potomu, chto iz vashego serdtsa Zapolnennye s impul'snym voshod 's?"

"Um…what?" Alfred looked blankly at Ivan, who was still just looking at him with that unnerving little smile.

"Just part of a poem that came to mind." Ivan shrugged and put his hands in the pockets of his wide black pants. "You wouldn't be interested." Russia started walking toward the music being played just outside the circle of torches now burning brightly in the darkened sky.

"No, I would – whad'ya say? Don't be talkin' all Ruski at me and not translate!" Alfred caught up to the slightly taller man and looped his arm in the crook of Ivan's.

"You are really interested, Amerika?"

"I said I was, didn't I?"

Ivan sighed. "Alright," Russia steeled himself. Tonight was turning out to be a very interesting Kupala night, and Ivan wasn't one to ignore the signs of fate, or what he had felt himself on that long train ride and in moments throughout the festival so far.

He took a moment to think about how to translate it, Finally, Ivan reached up to touch the soft yellow petals and locked his violet eyes on Alfred's questioning blue ones. He wouldn't say the whole poem, not just yet. He'd see how America took to this little part first.

"Is it because of your heart, filled with the sunrise's pulse?"

_End of Chapter 3 TBC of course, the night is still young!_

_The poem is Sunny Pulses Poet by Irina Guschina. _

_The entire poem is as follows (in English):_

_In the world, lighted_

_By Poets and Sunflowers,_

_I have found you, boy!_

_Is it because of your heart,_

_Filled with the sunrise's pulse?_

_I just about jumped up and down when I found this!_

_Wanna see what Alfred is wearing? _

http : / www. barynya. com / barynya / images / 2010 / chicago / 010. jpg

_and Ivan's leap?_

http :/ www. russianpartyusa .com / images / 2008 _ touch _ nyc / 05 _ dj _ barnaul _ hopak _ 01 .jpg

_I await your reviews from my stormy prairie home! Oh how they make me smile!_


	4. Chapter 4 The Waltz and the Two Step

_Ch 4 of Ivan Kupala Day or the Search for the Fern Flower!_

_Dancing, Drinking, and…more?_

_Enjoy!_

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'_Is it because of your heart, filled with the sunrise's pulse?'_

Alfred just looked back into Ivan's violet eyes. When he finally found his voice, the words came out quieter than Russia had ever heard the boisterous nation speak.

"Wow, that's…really….," America wasn't sure what to say. He suddenly had a hard time remembering to breathe, and his heart had constricted at the look in Russia's eyes. Alfred hadn't expected such words to come from Ivan, then again, he hadn't expected this holiday, he hadn't expected the wreath…incident…he hadn't expected to be feeling the way he was currently feeling. "Um, that's..uh, well, really…sweet."

The larger nation smiled, his eyes lighting up. "I am glad you think so." The Russian grinned, and poked the American in the chest playfully. "Your heart_ is_ full of sunshine, it is the reason you are so optimistic, Amerika! Even when you are wrong."

"Thank- Hey!" Alfred realized what Ivan had just said. "Wrong? Whatever, I'm never wrong buddy, you'll see, the history books'll show ya!" America replied, jutting his chin forward and stepping closer to Russia.

The silver haired man laughed and pinched the blonde on the chin. "And so proud!"

At the expression forming on the American's face, Ivan realized he needed to clarify. "Nyet, Nyet – I like this about you Amerika." He leaned forward to peer closely into Alfred's eyes, hoping to convey his sincerity.

His words seemed to mollify the fire that had been building in the American's blue eyes.

"Oh..well, thanks then!" America thought hard, _what do I like about Russia? Oh hell, can I tell him?_ Alfred wondered. He really had to admit he admired the larger nation's tenacity, the guy had been through a lot in his long history…and then there was the poetry.

Alfred looked away, suddenly feeling his face flush hot, and embarrassed that he was about to give up one of his secrets…and to Russia none the less!

"Well, um, I really like how, uh," What was the best word? Alfred racked his mind, feeling Ivan's light eyes on the side of his face. Finally it came to him. "Perseverant you are, and uh, you, um, have a way with, you know," America didn't think his face could get redder. "words."

"Oh?" Russia moved to face the blushing America. "You read Russian literature?"

"I have some…" Alfred looked past Ivan, purposefully not meeting the softly violet eyes or the small smile. He looked for anything that could change the subject and save him from further embarrassment.

"Hey – isn't that Ukraine and Belarus?" America asked, pointing back toward the fire. A band was playing lively music while celebrants danced in couples or singly around the bonfire and out in the surrounding flower covered meadow. The two sisters had linked arms and were dancing rapidly together, spinning and kicking their booted feet back as they hopped, the flowers and ribbons in each nation's hair bouncing.

Alfred didn't think he'd ever seen Belarus look…normal. Ivan's younger sister seemed to be, at least temporarily, less psychotic than usual.

"Da!" Russia turned to look and smiled at the sight of his sisters getting along so well. "Now is when, as the sun begins to set, we dance, drink, and," He shrugged, looking back toward the American. "have a good time."

Alfred grinned widely. "Well what the hell are we waiting for?" He took hold of the Russian's hand again, as he had when they first arrived, and pulled Ivan toward the circle of dancers.

Russia's heart jumped as America pulled him toward the center of the festival. Ivan felt Alfred's warmth in the hand that held his so tightly and his thoughts returned to the wreath. The wind knew what is had been doing, Ivan was sure of it. If he was honest with himself, he knew he had entertained thoughts of the young exuberant nation before, and had even enjoyed having someone of such formidable determination with which to argue politics, and ideals.

_Could it be that Amerika felt the same way?_

The introspective Russian was brought from his thoughts as they neared the fire and the band playing close by.

America laughed and let go of Russia's hand to point toward one of the instruments in particular. "Dude! That's a big ass guitar!" The blonde turned back toward Ivan with such an incredulous expression as he continued to chuckle that it took the Russian a few moments to decide on what to say. America pushed the slightly taller nation in the arm and leaned into Russia's side as his chuckles turned to giggles.

Ivan's smile twitched upward. America's giggles were infectious and…well, just adorable. However, adorable or not, He could not let Alfred laugh at one of his national instruments.

America continued to giggle, turning into Ivan's shoulder.

"Amerika," Russia began, suddenly not sure what to do about the laughing blonde now being so close. Ivan decided to defend his instrument and fulfill his curiosity as to what America's reaction would be if he suddenly made a move. It had always been such an interesting pastime, predicting the other nation's moves…

Ivan readied himself and then just went for it. He slung his arm around Alfred's shoulders and pulled the American in closer to his chest. Noticing Alfred had stopped giggling; his blue eyes flashing upward suddenly toward Ivan, the Russian went on. "It is not a guitar. It is a contrabass balalaika, and it is supposed to be that size."

Russia looked down at America and smiled.

Alfred began to open his mouth to tell Russia, he didn't care what he called it, it was still a huge ass guitar, when the tempo picked up and Ivan's small smile turned to a grin.

A group of young men had gathered between the slightly raised stage and the bonfire, the other dancers moving out of the way. Poland passed by, his wreath perched jauntily on his head as he pulled a flustered Lithuania behind him. The blonde grinned at the Russian still looking down at the American under his arm where Alfred had been leaning into Ivan's shoulder as he had giggled.

"Go on Ivan, aren't you going to show America your moves?" Toris visibly paled and was quick to look away as Feliks laughed and continued to pull the now blushing brunette out toward the surrounding meadow.

Ivan had glared at Poland, but now turned his eyes back to Alfred's. "Are you familiar with the Cossack dance, Amerika?"

Alfred shook his head. "Is that the one where you kick and stuff? I think I saw it once…" Before the other man could answer, America moved out of Russia's arm and grinned back at the large nation. "Do you dance?"

"Da. I dance in many styles of course, Amerika."

"Really?" Alfred couldn't remember having seen Russia ever dance before. Ivan was usually just sitting in meetings looking ominous and countering his brilliant ideas. He didn't want to admit it to the other nation, but he was actually very curious to see what Russia dancing looked like. "Well, go on then man! Show me your stuff!"

Ivan raised his eyebrows and looked to America, then without a word, and only the small enigmatic smile, He left to join the other Russian and Ukrainian men as the band picked up the pace and intensity.

_Damn_. That was the only word that came to mind as Alfred watched Ivan. Russia leaped through the air, he kicked, he spun, he clapped his hands; he jumped impossibly high, meeting his toes to his fingertips while the other men clapped their hands to their feet behind him keeping time with the music. Only a second after leaping through the air, he joined the others in a line as he squatted impossibly low and kicked his legs out, alternating from left to right so fast that Alfred had to admit he was impressed.

Only, America was beginning to be unable to ignore that 'impressed' was not the only thing he was feeling. The blood rushed throughout his body, and he was aware that he was uncomfortably hot, even for July.

Ivan continued to dance, _holy crap, was that a back flip?_ America's eyes went wide as he saw Russia flip backward through the air and Alfred felt his heart clinch again, just as it had at Ivan's words earlier. Russia had taken just a second to check that the wild rose was still behind his ear before spreading his arms and yelling along with the rest of the group, "Hey!"

As the violet eyed man smiled broadly over to him, everything he was, and had been feeling was clicking into place in America's mind. The way Ivan had placed the wreath on his head, the way he had insisted on Alfred keeping one flower, the words he had said, how he had pouted,…pouted! The way it had felt when Russia draped his arm over him…and the way it had felt when he himself had looped his arm in Russia's and taken his cool hand. Now the way he had felt his blood rushing, his cheeks coloring, and his breathe difficult to find…._ah, damn. I'm attracted to Russia._

Alfred really doubted this was what either of their bosses had had in mind when they said they needed to work to build a friendship. He absent mindedly brushed his fingers along the soft petals of the sunflower in his hat.

Now that the dance was over Ivan was being clapped on the back by several of the audience; someone handed him a bottle of vodka. He tossed a swig back to slack his thirst after the dance had left him sweating a bit, but exhilarated. America's attention as he danced had not gone unnoticed.

_This was a very interesting Kupala night, _Russia had hardly expected to feel the way he did, and had much less expected that Amerika might reciprocate. Ivan turned back toward Alfred and grinned wider seeing the American lost in thought, his hand to the sunflower's petals resting against the wide brim of his western hat.

Russia crossed the crowd of dancers now filling the area around the fire. He noticed America's rosey cheeks as he approached and the blonde dropped his hand from the sunflower, embarrassed.

"Amerika, would you like a drink?" Russia asked, offering him the bottle.

Alfred felt the need to show off his masculinity, and he sure wasn't going to turn down a drink and look like a sissy, even if vodka wasn't his choice beverage. "Sure!" He said with confidence, taking the bottle and downing a gulp as he would with coca-cola or budwieser.

Russia's eyes widened as did his smile. "Amerika, I am impressed."

Alfred coughed out around the tears in his eyes and at the burning sensation in his throat. "That's right!" He coughed a few more times, and felt his face flush even further from both the alcohol and embarrassment. He desperately needed to change the subject.

"Hey," Alfred began, taking his hat from his head to fan his flushed face, "Awesome dance – I mean, that's gotta take some, uh, stamina" _Damnit, why was he even hotter now? _The blonde felt like he was digging himself into a hole of embarrassment. It's not like he'd had a lot of experience flirting with Russia.

America missed Russia mumbling "Spasiba", his pale cheeks flushed just as much as Alfred's. Instead, his blue eyes had lit up as he noticed one of the musicians taking a violin out of its case.

"Fiddle…" He spoke the word softly, more as a thought, half formed in his mind.

"Chto Eto?" The violet eyed man asked, after taking another long draught of vodka.

America sat his hat back on his head matter of factly and turned toward Russia. "Hey, Ivan, your guys know how to do a basic western 4/4 measure?" He snapped out the rhythm for the Texas two step.

"Are you going to dance, Amer-Alfred?" Russia had just noticed that the other nation had used his human name, and so used America's as well.

"Nope – _We're_ gonna dance!" The blonde grinned wide, and took the surprised Russian by the arm.

After Ivan had translated to the musicians what Alfred wanted, and the blue eyed man had been thrilled to hear that the violinist had gone to school in America, and actually, thank god, knew how to play a fiddle like it was made to be played, the American positioned the Russian to his side, linking hands together in the front, and placing Ivan's other hand on his shoulder, Alfred placed his boldly around the Russian's waist.

He was America, and god damnit, America didn't do things half way. If this was how he felt, and, he now recognized it was, Alfred was in it all the way.

"Um, Amerika – I think I should lead, I am taller." Russia looked to the slightly shorter man who laughed then and leaned in closer. "Do you _know_ the two step, Russia?"

"Ah…nyet. I see what you mean." The silver haired Russian looked a bit distressed. His American dance partner grinned, and in an attempt to dispel Ivan's misgivings, Alfred put on his most confident, most reassuring, heroic voice.

"Don't worry, just follow my lead!" He grinned widely, blue eyes sparkling.

Regardless of how…well, cute, America was, Russia felt a sense of foreboding at Alfred's words. Ivan wasn't one to duck out though, so the Russian took a breath and agreed to let America lead.

As the Russian band played the country-western music they had been instructed to, Alfred stepped lightly around the bonfire in a circle. _Quick, Quick, Slow, Slow, Quick, Quick, Slow, Slow. _He spun the broader, taller nation on every other step or so, sometimes stepping back to back, others side to side and every third turn, face to face. He pulled Ivan close, and spun him away only to get to pull him close again and continue to step lively, lifting his toe on each first _'Quick'_ to slide along in the continuous circles on the first '_Slow'_.

Alfred loved every minute. The look on Ivan's face was priceless! It changed from distressed at not being able to lead, to thoroughly embarrassed, and shocked that he was being spun in circles by America, to, and the blonde grinned all the more as their dance passed the halfway mark, to looking like he might actually be enjoying it! Russia had at first just tried to go along with the steps, but now he was able to predict what was coming up, and Alfred could feel the broader man working with him as they spun and stepped in circles, back to back, side to side, face to face.

Russia had long decided he would never reveal to America how much fun he was having. Never. At first it had been unbearable to be lead, he was Russia. He was manly, strong, the largest nation on Earth, he was not to be led! However, as the steps became more and more familiar, and he kept catching sight of the radiant grin on his blonde partner's face as they spun, and stepped in rhythm, dancing Alfred's dance in Ivan's clothes at his festival, The Russian couldn't help but begin to enjoy it.

The wind had known what it was doing.

Russia's violet eyes kept returning to Alfred's blue ones, and then traveling to the sunflower still in his hat, as the turned. Each time they were face to face, Ivan felt the urge to lean down, to see what Alfred's reaction would be if he-if he actually took the American's proud chin in hand and brought his lips to his own. Each time the Russian got up the nerve to go for it, America turned him again and they were back to back, side to side, continuing the steps. When finally the song ended, America stood back, panting to catch his breath, He tipped his hat to the Russian.

"Alfred," Ivan stepped up closer, reaching a hand around the American's waist. "Rest and catch your breath. I will show you Vals v' dva pa."

America gave in to his feelings; gave in to his quickened heart beat, and relaxed in Ivan's arms. Returning his hat to his head, Alfred slid his own arm under Ivan's to drape across the Russian's lower back as it had been during the dance, the American replied.

"OK, and what exactly is valsv dvupah?"

Russia's usual small smile was in place as he answered. " Val's dvah pah" He corrected, "Is my version of your two step. The waltz in two beats."

Ivan was still somewhat unsure about what he was doing, but apparently something had changed in Alfred, because there was no mistaking the way the American looked at him now, their arms just above each other's waists, or the way he had watched Ivan dance. _Nyet, there is no mistaking it. Amerika is just as curious as I… he is feeling the same way._

Russia leaned even closer, his lips to America's ear, he whispered, "It is an old favorite, my sunflower, and I will lead."

Alfred agreed slowly, his arm tensing slightly on Ivan's waist. "But first, I'm crazy thirsty – what have you got to drink?"

Ivan introduced him to cool limony kvas, which Russia was pleased to see America enjoying as the energetic nation downed glass after glass. "This is like, fermented lemonade! Dude, that's amazing!" And a few more gulps from Russia's bottle of 'little water', after which Alfred's cheeks were a bit more rosey, his blue eyes a bit brighter. "Hey," The blonde leaned in close, "This holiday – its amazing. I'm so celebrating it next year too! Hell, its just 2 days after my birthday, lets just make a week of it!"

"Amerika, you have only had a little vodka, are you drunk already?" Ivan laughed and then looked closely into Alfred's face. "Because It sounded like you invited me to your next birthday, da?"

"Of course I did!" America beamed, throwing an arm over Russia's shoulders. "Totally gotta be there!" Alfred turned, both arms now around Ivan's neck. "Hey! I know! You should definitely come celebrate Halloween with me!"

Russia was just wondering what to say to that as his heart sped in his chest and he locked his violet eyes on America's clear blue ones; Ivan's happiness at the moment was almost sad. Why had they never gotten along quite so well? Why had they not been able to keep ahold of the friendship they had shared during America's revolution?

Before he could answer any of the questions in his mind, and while Alfred still stood there, his fingers now entwined behind Ivan's neck, The Russian noticed the waltz being played behind them by the fire. "Do you still want to dance?" Ivan asked Alfred, worried about the relatively small amount the American had drunk. "You have not had too much?"

"No way! I can hold my booze!" America grinned, and Ivan had to admit, at least he wasn't swaying yet. Russia felt his heart in his throat suddenly as he thought about what he was planning to do. He brought the vodka to his lips again and downed the rest in one gulp.

"Damn, Ivan! Save some for the rest of us, I thought you commie's were all about sharing!" Alfred laughed so hard at his joke that his head came to rest against Ivan's chest for a moment.

Steering his tipsy American dance partner toward the circle to join the many couples already dancing around the fire, Ivan chuckled with Alfred. "I told you, I am not technically communist anymore, Amerika."

Once they joined in the group, Ivan's arm encircled around his American's waist, his cool hand being warmed by Alfred's heat, the Russian stepped smoothly and elegantly around the circle. His heart ached behind the small smile at just how long it had been since he had danced in this way. He twirled and dipped the American, who, each time their eyes met, was looking at Ivan more and more as though he had never quite seen him before.

Russia had been looking at America that way since the western nation had said he could kiss him. Ivan knew that the American threw around words like that easily and without meaning, but if the other man's eyes were anything to go on, Alfred would mean it if he said it now. Ivan hoped that was true as the song came to an end and he dipped Alfred low.

His heart still beating wildly, he went for it. Like America, Russia did not go into anything halfway. When he set his mind to something he did it, the rest of the world may not always approve, like many nations he could think of that would not approve of what he was about to do. His mind and heart were set, and there was no going back now.

Ivan looked into Alfred's blue eyes, so blue like the summer sky, and into his hair the color of the sunflower still in his hat, and down to his soft pink lips. Closing his eyes, focusing on the blonde man below him alone, Ivan lowered his lips to Alfred's as he pulled the American in close.

America's lips were as sweet and soft as Russia had always imagined. What he had not imagined was that the other powerful nation would ever be kissing him back, reaching his hands up into Ivan's silver hair, or sighing and opening his mouth as he was doing now, granting the Russian's tongue access to explore as he never thought he would.

End of Chapter 4! More to come! But it will not be until mid May, I'm afraid I have finals to deal with guys.

In Ch 5: Reactions to the kiss! Who was nearby to see it and what do they do? More drinking and feasting, and then…into the forest. What dwells in the depths of the Russian forest? Will they seek the elusive fern flower? Will they find it?

Two or Three more chapters to this holiday!

Chto Eto: What's this?

Spasiba for all the lovely reviews – you really keep me going!


	5. Chapter 5 The Forest Beckons

NOTE: I got three awesome reviews and then people started saying they couldnt see it, I clicked on it, and sure enough NOTHING! AAAAH! So uploaded ch 5 in case there is confusion. hopefully whatever glitch made it dissappear does NOT happen again! (*shakes fist* You hear that FF people?)

_Hello All! Spasiba for the lovely reviews Ya lablyu tebya! I hope this chapter makes up for the wait. Finals finished! You can now expect much quicker updates! There will be jut a few more to this holiday, but they'll be…good ones. I promise~ _

_Without further ado, I give you Part 5 to Ivan Kupala Day or the Search for the Fern Flower: The Forest Beckons. _

America was aware of the sounds coming up involuntarily from his throat as he kissed the other nation back. Ivan's lips were warmer than he would have expected, and soft. Alfred reached his hands up into silvery locks, brushing past the smooth petals of the rose still in Russia's hair.

Their tongues danced around eachother as their bodies had a moment ago. It was all too easy to forget for a moment that there had ever been bad blood between them. Communism. Capitalism. What were these? The Cold War, what was that? Cuban Missile Crisis, who cares?

Instead the only memories coming to America's mind were celebrating the end of WW2, signing the Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty, and working together on the international space station.

The two great nations continued to explore eachother's taste oblivious to the world around them. Neither Ivan nor Alfred had any care to the shuddering Lithuania who covered Latvia's eyes beside the giggling Poland as the two had made their way back toward the fire; they gave no notice to the sound of Russia's older sister gasping as the younger sobbed, ripping flowers and ribbons from her hair.

Finally breaking for air, the Russian opened his eyes slowly and felt his heart jump at the light smile turning up the American's lips. Ivan straightened pulling Alfred up with him, America's blue eyes never leaving those of suddenly beloved violet.

The soft smile turned to a full grin as America stepped back and lifted his chin. "Damn Ivan, this is one helluva holiday."

Russia reached out and for the second time pinched the American's proud chin. "It is not over yet, lyoubovnik."

Part of Ivan still could not believe what he had just done; could not believe the pounding of his heart or that after so much hostility, America had felt the same.

As Ivan stood close, still holding Alfred's chin, the American was thinking along the same lines; he felt Texas sliding down his nose, no doubt tempted to secede. Never taking his eyes from Russia's, America pushed his glasses back up with his forefinger, _not today_, he mentally scolded them.

The two might have stood like that for an eternity were it not for the sudden scream that tore Russia's attention away from his newfound love.

Belarus was struggling against her sister's hold, her eyes wild, tears streaking down her face illuminated by the fire's glow, she screamed at the couple, first in her own language and then to make sure America knew her intentions, in English.

"Ne! Mo'ee braht!" She turned her stricken face to Russia, "Ya zabyou yaho!" and then glaring daggers at her rival, she translated for America. "I'll kill you, I'll kill you, I'll kill you Amerika!"

Alfred stepped closer, instantly on guard; he squared his shoulders and planted both hands on his hips. "Is that a declaration of war?"

Ukraine's wide eyes flashed to her brother's as the two shared a thought, newfound love or no, Russia did not take America lightly if the word 'war' fell from the other's lips.

Quickly working at the same time, the older sister spoke loudly over the younger's answer of confirmation. "No, no, Amerika she does not!" while Russia wrapped his arm around the tempestuous nation to steer him away. "Alfred, you have not yet tried the Khvanchkara. It is my favorite wine from Georgia." Oh, he hoped that wasn't still a touchy subject. Georgia was afterall absent from the festivities again this year. Ivan hurried on, "It is quite sweet; you will try, da?"

Seeing his American still looking over his shoulder at his sister, Ivan cupped Alfred's chin again and turned it to face him. "Due to the ban, I am not technically supposed to have it, but I thought you would like it Amerika."

To the Russian's relief, America smiled and relaxed into his arm. "Aw, you think that ban might end sometime soon?"

"Not all things are up to me, Alfred." Ivan replied as they passed the bonfire and neared the wine table. "You must remember, I have had many more than 44 bosses. Each has had their own vision."

The American could feel the Russian's tension rise beside him. Alfred turned in Ivan's grip to face the taller nation. He linked his hands at the small of Ivan's broad back and smiled radiantly. "Hey, no worries! I totally understand! Point me to that, whats it called? Kavanch…something!"

Russia relaxed instantly, glad that the old argument had not been restarted. His small smile returned and with violet eyes twinkling, he reluctantly extricated himself from the grinning blonde to pour two glasses.

America took first an exploratory sip, and then with an appreciative "Mmm!" He downed the rest of the ruby red liquid in one gulp. "Rasberry!" He wrapped one arm around the taller man's neck and brought Ivan's lips to his for a second kiss savoring the raspberry flavor lingering on Russia's lips and tongue as the other kissed him back passionately.

Ivan picked up the bottle from behind Alfred as the two kissed and when they broke apart, he refilled the American's glass. "What's this stuff called again?" The blonde asked, as the two made their way away from the table.

"Khavanchkhara. It has won 2 gold medals." Ivan answered. "I am so glad you like it and are having a good time." He looked down to America and was surprised to see him finishing the second glass as well. "Alfred, you should slow down, da?" Russia asked even as he refilled the American's empty glass at Alfred's request.

Ignoring the suggestion that he should slow down, the blue eyed man replied to the Russian's earlier sentence. "To say I'm having a good time is way, way an understatement dude!" America laughed but cut his laugh short as he blushed and took another sip. "Um," He began after the sip, "I..uh, I guess 'dude' isn't really what I should call ya anymore, huh?"

"Oh?" Russia gazed quizzically at the other nation who was clearly deep in thought. Ivan finished his first glass and refilled it while he waited as America stood in front of him tapping his chin with a finger.

Finally, the American shrugged and grinning, leaned in close to his violet eyed Russian and whispered "Cutie."

_Cutie? _Ivan shook his head; that was a name for pets, children, or girls. "Ah..nyet."

"No?" Alfred pouted and thought again. "Cutie-pie?"

Russia's stomach dropped at the thought of anyone hearing him being called cutie-pie.

"Alfred," Ivan began diplomatically, "you can simply call me by my nickname?"

"What? You don't like cutie-pie, Cutie-pie?" America grinned even wider and turned to lean his back against Russia's chest as he took the bottle and finished off the sweet Georgian wine. "You never mentioned a nickname before. What is it?"

Being called the ridiculous endearment again would have been enough to have Ivan reaching for his pipe if it weren't for the feeling of the American's back against his front and the warm way Alfred asked for his name.

"Vanya." Russia replied softly.

"Vanya?" America turned to face Ivan again, wrapping both arms around the larger nation's neck. "Vanya." He repeated the name noticing the blush that stole across Ivan's face. "I like it!" Blue eyes sparkled as America continued. "I am so so having a super awesome time Vanya!"

Russia's heart swelled at the sound of the diminutive form of his name coming from America's lips. He didn't have a moment to tell him this however, because as soon as the words were out, his American's attention had been taken by the wagon pulling in to the field. 'вишневый квас' printed on the side.

"What's that?" America asked immediately intrigued at the line already forming before the vehicle had stopped.

Russia smiled and pronounced the Cyrillic words on the side of the large keg being tapped. "Vishnyevee Kvass" At Alfred's continued questioning look, Ivan continued. "Cherry kvass."

Blue eyes lit up and Alfred bounced as he had when doughnuts had been mentioned when they first arrived. Locking his arms around Ivan's neck, the American squealed in joy. "Like that lemonade thing, only cherry!" Oh my god, Vanya I LOVE cherry!"

With that Ivan found himself being pulled toward the line by his energetic American. "Da, I do as well."

America did love cherry; as he proved by drinking cup after cup of the sweet, cool kvass with his softly smiling Russian. "Ivan – this holiday is fucking amazing! You really know how to party!" Alfred beamed knocking back his last glass of slightly fermented cherry beverage. "What other awesome secret Russian drinks have you been hiding, Va~nya~?" Alfred drawled out Ivan's nickname playfully.

The Russian chuckled softly and put an arm around the American. "What would you like to try?" Ivan waved his other arm indicating the various beverage tables offering the full range of liquid refreshment from sweet floral teas made of safflower, rose hips, and black tea to crystal clear bottles of vodka chilling in buckets of ice, little treasures of fruit soaking up the alcohol and flavoring the vodka lightly.

They sampled them all.

The music continued to fill the air around them, and everyone was cutting loose; dancing, laughing, chatting, drinking, feasting. Alfred was leaning on Ivan's shoulder after insisting on several more glasses of that delicious Georgian wine, and trying shots of each kind of vodka. The American sighed into the Russian's shoulder as both nations swayed holding onto eachother. Ivan still held one of his favorite vodkas in hand and took a long swig of the Stolichnaya catching one of the blackberries floating in the clear liquid with his teeth to savor the flavor of the summer fruit.

Really, how had this day not happened sooner? Ivan held the bottle up to the sky and toasted the wind. "K Vetry!"

Alfred stirred against Ivan's broad shoulder. Lifting unfocused baby blues he grinned lopsided and slurred, "Wassat mean?"

"I am thanking the wind for bringing you to me, mo'ee Americanski." Ivan blinked and looked down lovingly at the blonde leaning into him as they made they're way toward a soft looking log on the outer edge of the rings of seating stretching out around the bonfire. Russia was glad for the effects of the alcohol which had freed him of all his inhibitions and hesitations. Under its freeing influence he didn't even try to ignore the way his blood thrilled hot at America's touch.

As it did now.

Alfred, still grinning crookedly slid from Ivan's shoulder to lean his back against the Russian's chest as he reached for the bottle of vodka in the larger nation's hand. Holding it high, the American toasted the wind himself. "Cheers!" he brought the bottle to hips lips to take a long draught, far past the point of feeling the burning sensation, he gulped down a good fifth of what was left.

As he handed the bottle back to Russia, America reached up to take the blackberry from between his teeth. He turned around, his chest against Ivan's.

Alfred looked up into the Russian's over bright violet eyes and slurred, his accent turning decidedly south. "Vanya, Ah thank Ah'm a liddle drunk." He lifted the blackberry to Russia's lips.

"Mm, da." Ivan took the dark little berry from America's fingers, his lips lingering over the fingertips at his mouth longer than necessary. "Ya takzhye."

Blue eyes blinked slowly, not understanding.

_Ah..he had spoken in Russian._ "Me too." Russia smiled down at America as they reached the moss covered log. To either side of them on other logs like their own, friends lounged laughing together, couples kissed and whispered to eachother, and everywhere people were relaxing, celebrating midsummer together.

Ivan, being used to his stronger alcohol, was just shy of Alfred's intoxication level and he helped the proud country to sit on the soft ground in front of the log before joining him in the soft grasses.

Instead of sitting beside America, Russia straddled the blonde's lap emboldened by the Alfred's inviting responses throughout the evening following their dances. The larger nation only slightly worried that the old hostilities would impede their new affections.

He needn't have worried. As far as America was concerned, it was all ancient history. Whether it would stay that way the next time he wanted to set up military defenses in Europe, Alfred didn't even question.

America reached up to touch the petals of the rose still nestled behind Russia's ear as violet eyes locked onto sapphire and Ivan cupped Alfred's chin to bring their lips together for the third time.

Russia's heart quickened at the sound and vibration of America moaning into the kiss as their tongues intertwined. Ivan pulled back from Alfred's vodka flavored lips to look down at the American's flushed pink face and felt the heat spreading across his own cooler cheeks. In one smooth movement of his hand, Russia had removed America's hat to set it on the log at the blushing blonde's back.

Looking down at the sight before him, Ivan's heart felt like it was going to stop. The stubborn and beautiful, powerful yet naïve America dressed in billowy red pants and embroidered tunic, tipsy on his vodka and wine, looking up at him with large blue eyes and rosy cheeks. Mo'ee Bozhe, had he known America could be like this…history would have undoubtedly been different.

Ivan bent to take Alfred's lips again and found himself echoing the American's throaty sounds as he pressed himself against America, feeling the warmth of the other's body so close against his own he could feel Alfred's heart speeding up in time with his through their soft linen tunics.

Violet eyes flashed open as Ivan felt Alfred deepening the kiss and lifting himself against the larger country above him, the energetic young nation's arms encircling his back. Ivan paid no heed to the two pairs of feet that raced just behind their log on the way into the forest until he heard the familiar Polish giggle from the edge of the wood followed by the unusually sure Lithuanian's reply. Suddenly his face flushed red again, this time unrelated to the alcohol he had imbibed, but by the idea suddenly commanding him to obey his desires.

Slowly, Ivan pulled back from America's intoxicating kiss. He reached behind Alfred's head to pluck the sunflower from the brim of the western hat. Still tipsy, Russia had to focus to brush the flower across the American's face as he leaned in close, "You know mo'ee krasivee Americanski, legend tells us the fern flower blooms only tonight. No one has ever found it before. The fern's blossom is said to bring good fortune and magic to the one who finds it in the forest's heart…"

The competitive nation brightened and scooted up against the log at his back. "Hell yeah, lets go! We'll find it!" As Ivan moved from Alfred's lap to help his newfound love up from the ground, America continued brightly, looping his arm around the taller Russia. "A hero never turns down a quest!"

Russia chuckled, feeling his body unnaturally heated as the old enemies turned new lovers swayed together toward the forest's edge, the spruce and oak limbs bending in the wind that was seen but not felt.

Just as they stepped beneath the dark canopy of leaves above them, America stopped and turned wide blue eyes to violet and moved in closer against Ivan's chest.

Determined to not let his fear be known, America looked down for a minute to fiddle with the edges of Russia's ever present scarf before looking back up to meet Ivan's eyes again. "Um, not that I'm, you know scared or anything," He forced a brave laugh, "but just, um, wondering, you know. There aren't like ghosts in here or anything are there?" I've heard some pretty weird stuff lives in Japan's and Germany's forests…"

"Ah," Russia smiled that small enigmatic smile down at America, understanding what lay beneath the brave exterior.

"My forests are not quite like the Schwarzwald to the West or Aokigahara to the East. In my land you need not fear werewolves or dangerous elves nor the crushing misery of the lingering dead."

"No?" Alfred was starting to feel better. If all he had to worry about was Bigfoot or some Russian equivalent then that would be ok. Unfortunately, Russia wasn't finished.

"Nyet. None of that." Russia wrapped both arms around the man leaning so close against his chest. Nuzzling America's nose with his own it was clear Ivan intended his words to reassure. "The spirits of the forest are celebrating tonight as well and are in a good mood. Baba Yaga will leave us be as her appetite is for true humans, the Leshi will be in especially good spirits as the king of the forest. Only take care to treat the wood with respect and you will have no need to fear his long fingers. The unclean dead are in the rivers and even they do not hunger for the living on Ivan Kupala night."

Ivan smiled, unaware of Alfred's stricken expression hidden by the shadow of the woods. "Besides," He went on, "The truly frightening are the spirits of the pastures, springs, and banya."

"Uh-huh." America was beginning to sober up from the unseen threats he knew were lurking just outside his vision. "And just what exactly are the unclean dead, Baba Yaga, and the Leshi?"

Russia walked forward slowly into the underbrush still holding America close as he answered. "Baba Yaga is well, there are many of her. They are cannibal witches in the simplest terms. Sometimes helpful, always tricky. The Leshi is the guardian of the forest. He likes blini, which are like pancakes, and if given some will not tickle trespassers to death. The unclean dead, are just that. It is sad really."

America had pulled away from Russia's chest and stood a few inches back shocked that Ivan could talk about such…horrors so nonchalantly. "Cannibal witches? Spirits that TICKLE you to DEATH unless fed PANCAKES? And ghosts are still ghosts, dirty or not!" Alfred coughed and puffed out his chest. "Um, not that I'm scared or anything!"

But just that moment a long shuddering sigh broke through the underbrush to the right and before either knew what had happened, America had yelled at an embarrassingly high pitch and had lept into Russia's arms, wrapped his legs around the taller nation's waist and buried his face in Ivan's scarf.

_End of Part 5!_

_Oh what a place to leave our guys….hmm. Next chapter what will happen in the depths of the Russian forest? I did give this an M rating so you've been forewarned. (not that I think any of you are upset about that prospect, hm? LOL)_

_Terms:_

_**Lyoubovnik**__ = loverboy_

"_**Ne! Mo'ee braht!" Ya zabyou yaho**__ = No, My brother! I'll kill him! (Byelorussian)_

_**The ban on Georgian and Moldovan wine**__: since 2006 Russia has had a ban on imports of wine from Georgia and Moldova, previously these countries relied on exporting to Russia for a large portion of their profits. Russia cites impurity reasons, but this has not been proven to the satisfaction of Georgian and Moldovan officials. I think it is still ongoing. (Too bad, cause I've had Georgian dessert wine and it's deliscious!)_

_**K Vetry**__: To the Wind!_

_**mo'ee Americanski**__: my American_

_**Mo'ee Bozhe**__: my God_

_**mo'ee krasivee Americanski**__: my beautiful American_

_**Schwarzwald**__: Black Forest region of Germany_

_**Aokigahara**__: the name of the dense Japanese forest known as the suicide forest_

_**Banya**__: the sauna (According to Russian folklore Banya spirits are particularly terrifying, known to boil and flay their victims alive – they have no appearance, instead only a whooshing sound and a strong wind.)_

_Again, Spasiba (Thank you) for reading and reviewing! The wonderful reviews I get from all you lovelies make me smile!_


	6. Chapter 6 Searching among the Ferns

_At long last: Ivan Kupala Day or the Search for the Fern Flower part 6! There will be one more chapter after this. This is a nice long chapter full of lovey sexiness and whatnot. This chapter is the reason this story has an M rating so you have been warned, read on and enjoy now, prepared._

_I'm now on deviant art. I only have one sketch up in my soon to continue 'psych series' but am currently working on some Ivan Kupala day pieces as well as for my other stories. _

http :/ ratsister . deviantart. com/

_oh and here are some helpful translations at the outset:_

_mo'ee lyoubov = my love_

_mo'ee Bozhe = my God_

_Ya lablyu vash krasivee golubye glasa = I love your beautiful blue eyes_

_Lyoubovnik = loverboy sort of way of saying lover_

_pazhaloosta - please_

_derogoy = dear_

_Without further ado…._

Under cover of America's scream and the resulting shuffle as Russia reacted to the surprise of having the other nation cling to him, the source of the sigh was muffled beneath the bushes to the right.

Poland's hand had shot up to securely cover Lithuania's mouth. Both sets of wide green eyes looked into eachother. The blonde leaned up, leaving the wreath of wildflowers on the ground in a halo of petals. "Like, be quiet Liet!" Feliks grinned as he whispered, his hushed words almost laughing, "Unless you totally like, want Russia and America to find us!"

The brunette's wide eyes sparkled mischievously. It may be how much he'd had to drink, but Toris Laurenitis felt a lot less like the nation he was known as today, and more the Grand Duchy he had been. Not even stuttering a bit, and without a single twinge of stomachache he kissed the blonde's hand away and leaned in close. "Let them find us Feliks! I remember how powerful we were together..."

As Russia was still stumbling with the shaken America, Poland grinned with reminiscent glee and pulled the Lithuanian down over him again against the soft moss under low hanging ferns. "We were, like totally unstoppable in the early seventeenth century, weren't we Liet?

Beneath the fern bushes and underbrush, Lithuania, overboldened with remembered glory, brushed his lips against his former sovereign partner's. "Remember when we held Moscow from 1610 to 1612?" Before the Polish nation beneath him could do anything but grin, toss his hair, and get more out than, "those were like, the da-" The brunette had locked his lips onto the other's thinking of the old commonwealth and how long it had been since they'd had a personal union.

The next day Lithuania would blush at his boldness and then shudder at the thought of what would have happened had Russia not been preoccupied with America; if the now much more powerful nation had heard him bring up those two years…. But for now, Lithuania was a Grand Duchy again beneath the ferns and Russia was far more interested in the future than the past as he held America in his arms.

Russia stumbled backwards, caught off guard but not unhappy to find America clinging to him tightly. The eastern nation enclosed the western in his arms and adjusted his hold. "Amerika?" Ivan cleared his throat as the terrified nation only burrowed his face further into his scarf. "Alfred, you do not need to fear the forest."

Ivan rolled his eyes and smiled his small smile as the American currently wrapped around him spoke up; Alfred's words were muffled as he talked into the Russian's scarf-clad neck. "Uh-huh sure!" Russia had to strain to hear the next part, but was fairly sure it contained the words "…cannibal witches….dirty ghosts…tricky Russia… stupid forest"

Ivan continued to smile and carried Alfred deeper into the wood. It wasn't the easiest way to walk, with America's chest against his, his legs wrapped around him…not the least because Ivan found the sensation of having Alfred's hips move against his own as he walked incredibly distracting.

After some time, the two nations arrived in a open mossy clearing. "Look Alfred, you can see by the moon's light; nothing will hurt you." Ivan rubbed his hand along America's back; when that only earned him a happy little sound, but no movement, Russia giggled.

"What is this? The "_home of the brave"_ is frightened so easily?" Ivan smiled behind his words and waited for Alfred's reaction.

He didn't have to wait long.

"No way! I'm not scared of anything, baby!" He was America damnit, no Russian forest spirits could scare him, Alfred psyched himself up and looked Ivan in the face, grinning wide. "I'm the U.S. of A, the most powerful country on Earth!"

"Oh is that so?" Russia's smile wavered only slightly at that comment as he swiftly pinched America's side. "Because it would seem _you_ are in _my_ arms, Amerika…"

"Ow!" The blonde pulled back and pouted as he unwrapped his legs and dropped his feet to the mossy forest floor. Still standing against Russia, America's arms were loosely wrapped around the taller nation's neck. Hip to hip, chest to chest, nose to nose, Alfred lifted his chin just slightly as Ivan dipped his equally to allow violet eyes to gaze into blue.

"Um…" Alfred started. "So, this fern flower…" America felt his face flushed scarlet with embarrassment for how he had screamed and shown his fear of the supernatural…as well as the way his heart raced at the feeling of Ivan so very close. America had begun to sober up from drunk to tipsy at the fear of whatever ghostly beings lived in Russia's forest, but now the western nation began to feel freshly intoxicated and knew it had little to do with the amount he had imbibed earlier and more with the way he was still able to taste Ivan's kiss, and he admitted, he wanted more…

"So, uh..yeah," The blonde continued, backing away from full contract with the larger nation, afraid of the intensity now coursing throughout his body. "um, you know - What's it supposed to look like?" America straightened his beloved suede hat, checking the sunflower that had been carefully tucked back in. Alfred scanned the meadow, less actually searching than hiding his flushed face from Russia.

Ivan replied, speaking softly, his enigmatic smile in place. "No one has ever seen it Alfred. There are those who do not believe it exists."

The shining grin his newfound American love now turned toward Ivan made the corners of his small smile twitch. America had such energy and so little skepticism.

"C'mon Vanya, this holiday is how old, like ancient, right?" Alfred rolled his eyes and gestured to the clearing. "You didn't just drag me into this forest to look for nothing, did ya?" The American laughed, "Just cause no one's found it before doesn't mean anything!"

America had stepped closer to Russia again without realizing it and now stood close enough to breathe in the taller man's scent. Ivan smelled of salt, earth, vodka, and rye. It was incredibly musky and exotic to America's senses. It was with difficulty that Alfred shook himself mentally to clear his mind from dwelling on that unique mixture of scents. Instead, the American let his competitive side come fully to the surface. If there was something out there that no one else had found, people didn't think could be found, well, that just meant that he'd make sure they found it! The blonde gestured widely and grinned more radiantly, full of confidence.

"We went to space, man; you and me!" Alfred beamed and poked Russia in the chest as Ivan began to chuckle into his scarf. "People didn't think we could, and we totally showed them!" The American looked up to the skies above the clearing thus missing the Russian's movement. The blonde jumped when Ivan took him in both arms again to whisper against his ear, "We need a little friendly competition, da?"

"If you think you can keep up." America goaded Russia, returning the equally stubborn nation's challenge with a mischievous smile. Alfred's heart sped ridiculously fast in his chest as he stood nose to nose with the other nation.

The two men stood face to face, Alfred's eyes sparkling with competitive spirit meeting Ivan's quiet mysterious smile. The breeze blew through the clearing rustling the leaves of the surrounding trees which gave the effect that the dark green canopy was shivering around them.

_Mo'ee Bozhe, that look!_ Ivan gripped Alfred's chin and pressed their lips together, tasting his intoxicating American once more. The Russian's lips lingered on the American's as Ivan hesitated to pull away. Alfred had kissed him back with the same passion as he had answered Russia's challenge.

Knowing he had to release America's lips in order to reply to the counter challenge, Ivan pulled back and ran his hand from Alfred's chin down his neck to tap a finger at the beat of America's rapid pulse. "Oh da…this is my forest mo'ee krasivee Americanski."

After Russia went over what a fern looked like to America, the two decided on splitting the meadow in half, Russia taking the North and East, America, the South and West, the two nations moved away from eachother toward the edges of the clearing to begin searching each fern for any signs of a blossom. Ivan's heart flipped noticing that it took America longer than usual to move off toward his side. The violet eyed Russian was so unsed to anyone wanting to stay around him…no matter how Ivan wanted to keep them close, those he loved had always left…

Russia shook the melancholy mood as he watched the exuberant blonde tearing through the ferns in his search.

Russia turned toward the ferns along the treeline of his side of the meadow. Ivan feigned an equally determined search only long enough to satisfy the competitive American that he was absorbed in his own quest. The violet eyed nation stood at the north end of the clearing watching his American love search through the foliage. Russia didn't truly think they would find the fern flower, instead he had come up with a plan of his own the minute America had jumped into his arms.

While America was determinedly making his way along the southwest end of the meadow, Russia was moving silently along the edge toward him. Ivan turned back to the undergrowth, his small smile upturned in mischievous glee each time Alfred looked his way. Competing with America was always this way, one nation stealing a glance, spying on the progress of the other. If only all their previous competitions had ended the way Ivan intended this one to end, Russia thought to himself and suppressed a giggle.

On the other side of the meadow America tried to concentrate as he moved fern leaf after fern leaf in search for the elusive bloom. He tried to concentrate, but his mind kept returning to Russia. _Ivan. Vanya_. If anyone had told America he would be calling Russia by such an intimate name, would have danced, kissed, and well…be feeling this way for the other nation, his old enemy, America would have laughed right in their face.

However, here he was, sneaking glances over at the silvery haired nation as Ivan looked in the undergrowth for the bloom himself. Sure, he wanted to check Russia's progress to make sure he was still in the lead, but really, more and more it was just because he felt compelled to look toward the other man.

It had been a few minutes since he had glanced toward Ivan and Alfred was jut reaching toward a new fern when he felt now familiar hands grip his waist and pull him up from the fern in question.

Russia didn't give America the chance to say anything as he turned the impetuous nation to face him; silencing any retort Alfred might have had with his kiss.

A gust of wind blew past the two as Alfred forgot the ferns entirely and twined his hands in Ivan's pale hair as the Russian's tongue moved in the American's mouth. The broad nation moved forward, guiding Alfred to step backward through the undergrowth of the forest. They only stopped when America felt the flaky bark of a large birch tree at his back.

There was something different about this kiss. It was deeper, more forceful, almost needy in its passion. The American moaned into the Russian's movements as their tongues danced around eachother.

After a blissful eternity, Ivan pulled away from Alfred's lips. Violet eyes were clouded with a determination Alfred had only ever seen under much less romantic circumstances.

The Russian leaned down to whisper into the American's ear.

"Alfred, I have found the fern flower."

"Hmm?" It took a moment to register what Ivan had said over the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. "What?" Alfred's blue eyes focused as he straightened Texas and looked around Ivan. The Russian didn't seem to have anything. Suddenly suspicious, America squinted over Texas at Ivan. "Where?"

Russia simply smiled the same enigmatic smile as his hands found their way to the sash at America's waist. "Right here, Amerika."

"Huh?" Alfred's face was instantly heated at the feel of Ivan loosening the sash, and the American pressed forward into the Russian's hips as the strip of fabric fell to the moss covered ground, freeing his light linen tunic. America was still perplexed as to what Ivan meant and as Ivan pressed him against the tree, Alfred craned his neck over Russia's shoulder to look for any sign of the elusive magical flower.

Russia's heart was beating as frantically as America's in response to what his body was doing and even more at what his heat was begging him to ask. Ivan had little reason to doubt Alfred's shared interest; relations had certainly warmed quite a bit in just one evening. Still, before the words his heart longed to ask could fall from his tongue, Russia had to be certain how the stubborn, independence nation would react.

Hiding his nerves, the largest country on earth kissed along America's neck and rejoiced privately as Alfred allowed him to move his hands under the embroidered tunic. Russia felt America's warmth under his touch and it only spurred on the mounting desire. Alfred was reaching his own fingers into Ivan's sash now, working at loosening the knot.

America was reaching for him?

Unable to hold it in any longer, Russia moved his lips up along America's neck to nibble at the nation's ear. As he felt the sash fall from his own waist, Ivan closed his eyes and whispered, "You will become one with me, my little fern flower?"

America was lost in the feeling of Russia's soft lips and sharp nibbles at his sensitive earlobe, but gasped as the words sunk into his mind. Blue eyes fierce, he pulled back. "Little?" But as the words his Russian had spoken fell into place he finally realized what Ivan had meant. His large blue eyes widened and softened. America smiled and thumped the other nation on the shoulder before moving back into Ivan's grip. "Cheating. And I'm a man, damnit, I'm no flower!"

"But I found you. Among the ferns, on this midsummer night…mo'ee Amerika." Russia swept the American's cowboy hat from his head and tossed it to land on the discarded sash. The larger nation then lifted the tunic fully from Alfred's body and threw it to join the hat. Ignoring the half hearted arguments his blushing American began but never finished, Ivan bent to brush his lips along Alfred's chest.

Russia's ears were delighted at the sounds of America's rapid breath and half formed words as the cooler nation breathed across Alfred's chest. "Now, my fern flower, you say Sunflowers grow in your heart? The area you call the Great Plaines, da?"

"Mnn, ah!" America gasped again at the cool blast across his chest as Russia's breath mixed with his heat. The blonde arched his back against the tree into Ivan who was now trailing his fingers along Alfred's prairie, the soft golden hairs of his chest standing against the sudden cold.

"Ah, uhn…" America's eyes were wild as he took hold of Russia's face with both hands. Alfred felt turbulent and out of control. "Man, Vanya! You…you can't just do that! Its July, what do you think is gonna happen all over the plains when your cold front meets my summer heat?"

Russia's violet eyes were equally bright and the large nation pressed America back to the tree as he returned to moving light kisses across Alfred's chest, his hands now finding their way into the waist band of the wide legged drawstring pants.

As his fingers moved along to find the string responsible for keeping them apart, it was Ivan's turn to gasp as he felt America reach his warm fingers along his back, fingernails digging into the steppes and tundra of his far east. If he had sent a cold front to his American's prairie, Alfred was surely responsible for a rise in temperature in even the northernmost reaches of Siberia. Russia shivered involuntarily and let loose a pleasurable moan.

Ivan's fingers now found the string and the large nation pulled the knot free as he lifted America up again around his waist; Alfred instantly wrapped his legs around Ivan as he had done before.

Russia dropped to his knees and let his flower lift the tunic from his shoulders, carefully keeping the scarf around his neck. Ivan sighed happily as America left soft warm kisses across his chest from shoulder to shoulder, from St. Petersburg to Kamchatka. It felt heavenly, Russia had not thought he would ever be touched in this way by the other powerful nation. Honestly, Ivan thought, as he felt Alfred's desire matching his own through the loose pants both still wore, how had they never seen eye to eye? How had this night not happened before?

Russia could take no more as violet eyes looked down at America's golden hair, warm skin, and equally strong, but delicate frame. From where he stood on his knees, Ivan brought his hands up across Alfred's chest to the slender yet muscular shoulders and in one swift motion that left America gasping for breath, warm blue eyes wide, Russia pushed the western nation's shoulders to the mossy forest floor. Hooking America's booted legs into the crook of each arm, Ivan leaned over him, his own heart beating hard enough to explode, Russia whispered once more, staring into bright blue eyes below, "You will become one with me tonight, da?"

America spluttered looking into his surprising lover's heated expression. Pale, cool skin so reminiscent of a wintry landscape now tinged in a pinkish glow of desire. Alfred was still shocked if he thought about it, just who it was that so set his heart to beating rapidly and stirred the desire now urging him to just scream out "Da!"

But however his desire urged him on, he couldn't just _'become one with Russia!'_ "Uh…um…" America started, he certainly wanted to do this, needed to do this, but no matter how painful and pressing his need, Alfred had to remember he was America damnit, and he could not under any circumstances _become…one….with…RUSSIA_.

"Vanya," Alfred sat up on his elbows and met Russia's eyes with his own. "I uh, can't just become one with Russia, I mean, America can't…I just can't…" Good lord, his boss would already have a fit if he knew what exactly he was up to in this Russian forest as it was!

Whatever the blonde on his back had been expecting, it hadn't been the tiny chuckle that came from the nation above him. Ivan leaned in and nuzzled his nose to Alfred's. "Oh, it is so sweet that you even would consider that mo'ee lyoubovnik." The smile was a little wider than usual as the Russian moved back again and looked down on the puzzled American. "I did not expect you to become one with Russia… This is the twenty-first century and I know that is…unlikely to happen."

It was clear from his expression and dreamy fog that crossed Ivan's violet eyes that 'unlikely' did not translate to 'impossible', and if Alfred had said America would become one with Russia it would've been taken quite seriously.

At the frustrated and confused look on the American's face, Russia moved one of Alfred's booted calves up to take the end of one leather lace with his mouth. Ivan pulled the lace free and smiled. "We can just be Ivan and Alfred tonight, da?"

Taking the other lace now to loosen the boot holding in the soft red pants, he restated the question. "You will become one with me, _Alfred_?"

America looked into bright violet eyes; he could just see the flicker of hesitation, the glance down to his boot that gave away the fact that Russia was unsure, maybe even afraid of the answer. Ivan stayed immobile, his eyes on the loosened laces of the black boot and the loose red pants just hanging to the American who laid out below him in the moonlight.

His heart pounding in his chest, Alfred felt Texas slipping again from his nose. He wanted Ivan, this Ivan, so different from the cold war…what had that been really, but a misunderstanding? Alfred bit at his lip and sat up further on his elbows. Could they just be Alfred and Ivan? Was it possible to be with not Russia, but Ivan and just as Alfred, not as America?

He really didn't know; all he knew was, as violet eyes looked up from his loosened boot beneath pale strands of silvery hair, there was no mistaking the heat in the colder nation's expression. The intensity and secret insecurity in Ivan's eyes sparked something in Alfred, something that chased his inhibitions and concerns away.

America flopped back against the moss; he ran both hands through his hair and stared up at the stars above instead of meeting the other man's eyes again. His breathe now coming short, the blonde half covered his face with a forearm as he spoke. His words came quietly at first, "Yeah, ok..uh..Da."

"Da?" The Russian's voice sounded as though it came from far away. The American felt Ivan's grip on his calf tighten. The heat from his neck moving swiftly up to color his ears scarlet and tint his cheeks, Alfred chanced a glance back to Ivan and repeated, his heart racing so loudly now in his ears that he barely heard his own voice. "Da, da, Vanya."

Ivan sighed in giddy relief and with an equal blush tingeing his features, The Russian wasted no time. He pulled both boots from his American's legs, and with only the loose pants between them, he settled between Alfred's legs to take the blushing nation's soft lips with his own. "Alfred," Ivan nearly moaned as they breathed between enthralling kisses, "Mo'ee Bozhe! I love when you say that. Say it again."

Alfred gasped at the sensation of Ivan pressed against him, the man above pressed his hips against his lover's below. The blonde gulped as they broke for air. Even as he reached his hands up into silvery locks, Alfred's breathe hitched in his throat when he felt the soft fabric of his wide legged pants lowering and sliding over his straining erection. Involuntarily, the American bucked his hips upward.

Blue eyes flew open at the feeling of Ivan lowering his legs as the borrowed pants were finally dragged over his toes and tossed to land in the heap of discarded clothing. The Russian was now moving slowly, exploring Alfred's south with heavily lidded eyes. Ivan moved his fingers along slim but muscular thighs to grip the American's hips before running one arm around Alfred's back to pull the American in tight. Violet eyes once again snapped up to the wide baby blues now fixed, unblinkingly on his actions.

Determined to hear that beloved word again, the Russian held the American around the waist as he bent down to nuzzle against his old rival's smooth, warm inner thigh. Ivan's small smile had disappeared to be replaced by a lustful curiosity as soon as he'd freed America's already hardened cock. Florida was exactly as he had imagined…

Ivan encircled Alfred's peninsula with one large hand and was thrilled to hear a pleasured gasp. Russia kissed and nipped at America's thighs and his ears were greeted with moans of contentment and more tiny gasps but no '_Da',_ no_ 'da, Vanya, da!' _

Yet.

Ivan gripped his American tighter with the arm that encircled Alfred's lower back and pulled his lips away from warm thighs to gaze over the superpower who had been so fierce a rival. Now, back arched before him, shoulders to the mossy forest floor, blonde hair disheveled and falling into bright blue eyes, America breathed shallow and quick at Russia's ministrations as Ivan ran a thumb from the weeping tip to the base and began to pump his hand rhythmically.

"Say it again." Ivan restated, feeling the flush that stole across his face as his own blood heated and sped throughout his body, fueling the now painful need he had for the American below him.

"Da?" Alfred looked up at Ivan quizzically, who, with violet slits for eyes, smiled and moving his hand away demanded lightly, "Again." Before laying soft lips to the taught flesh and gripping America's hips with both large hands, Ivan pulled his partner's pelvis in close, Alfred's legs to either side of the broad Russian.

Whether he was the United States of America or simply Alfred at the moment, the blonde honestly didn't know or care when he felt Ivan take him into his mouth; the Russian's lips were as soft and tongue as active as each time the two had kissed. America's eyes fluttered and closed, his back arched again up toward the silver haired man, and Alfred didn't know exactly how many times he complied with Ivan's demand as he tossed his head back against the soft mossy ground.

Alfred didn't know, but Ivan heard each one and relished the sound. Officially, this was only between him and the American as they were right now, not as their nations, however, Alfred's garbled impassioned cry of "Oh..mnph, Da! Da! Da…Fuck…ungh..mn..Da!" made Ivan's heart swell with pure joy. There was the thought that America, the old rival, the stubborn ideological opponent, and the intoxicating new lover, was making those sounds for him, and, some part of his heart asserted, for Russia.

As Ivan worked to get his Amercan to cry out his pleasure in Russian again and again, his mind traveled back over the strange day. He never would have thought this moment would be happening. Never. Ivan hadn't expected Alfred's surprising interest in Russian literature, or the way he'd watched him dance, and then the way they had danced together.

Violet eyes watched his American man writhing in his arms and against the soft ground as he continued, bringing Alfred to near completion with his steady ministrations. Ivan had never expected the American to take an honest interest in his culture. He certainly had never believed he would hear America calling him by his name, and in such an intimate way.

Alfred's voice was husky and low as he began to lose himself entirely. "Vanya…" He tried but couldn't reach Ivan from how the Russian had him held. The taller man, on his knees, held his hips up and bent over and between his legs, leaving his upper body to lay against the forest floor. Instead Alfred knotted his hands into fists of his own golden hair, shivering when he brushed Nantucket. "Vanya, my God…mmngh…."

There could never be a more beautiful sight than that of the powerful America biting his lip and losing control in Russia's arms. Ivan increased his movements, helping Alfred reach his climax. The Russian wanted the American to be as relaxed as possible if he was to become one with him…and Ivan could only hold in his own pulsing desire so long.

Raising violet eyes again to see Alfred, covering his face with one forearm, the other hand still fisted into his hair, and making that sound…Bozhe, was that…was America whimpering? He was.

Ivan could still not believe the way the night had gone. Never had he expected this. He'd never expected to have America arching his back below him, whimpering and moaning in pleasure. He could tell Alfred was near to climaxing, and Ivan was more than willing to help him get there. The only thing that stopped the Russian's heart from soaring was the way the American covered his face, as though he was ashamed.

Ivan stopped. He moved back from his partner's more than ready cock.

Alfred moved the arm covering his eyes to look up questioningly, lustily frustrated, and was that just a bit hurt?

"Wha? What's wrong?" The eyes Ivan had longed to see were now open wide, the American brushing sweat- glistened locks of hair from his face.

"Nyet. Nothing is wrong." The broad Russian smiled his small smile again and gripping his American's hips possessively, he bent back to take Alfred in his mouth again, but before he gave the American what he so desperately wanted, Ivan had to make one thing clear. "I want to see your eyes, mo'ee lyoubov." At the bright scarlet blush that crossed over his American's face, the Russian continued. "I know you were founded by puritans, this is hard for you, but Ya lablyu vash krasivee golubye glasa."

Alfred had no idea what Ivan had said, but knew he wanted to see his eyes. At this point, the American was dangerously close to giving back Alaska; anything to get Ivan to take him again in his surprisingly warm lips. So, he wanted to see his baby blues? Sure thing!

America smiled as broadly as he could while being out of breath and on the edge of extreme sexual frustration. "You got it babe!" He grinned and sat up on one elbow and winked at the violet eyed man holding his hips so tightly.

Keeping his eyes on Ivan's however, proved more difficult than agreeing to it. America threw back his head and cried out as soon as the surprisingly soft warm lips returned and Ivan engulfed him once again.

_So vocal. _Russia thought as he teased the American with quick swipes of his tongue and enjoyed the sounds and half formed words coming from his American lover's throat.

"Uh..mm, God damn… unh.." Finally with watery eyes his America turned his face fully to meet beloved violet looking up from behind pale lashes as he came fast and hot, calling out stiltedly, "Va-ah-anya!"

The feeling of Ivan swallowing around him was one that would stay with Alfred forever, he felt sure and satisfied as he lay back against the mossy ground, panting.

His Russian love stood while the American lay recovering on the moss; Alfred heard Ivan move through the ferns swaying in the increased wind, and turned toward him.

The taller nation returned with a broken stalk of some kind of green plant.

"What's that?" America pushed Texas back up on the bridge of his nose to focus.

Ivan answered as stood, loosening the string of his billowed black pants; Alfred noticed the Russian had already pulled the thin linen material from his boots. "This is a piece of an aloe plant." Ivan stopped everything he was doing and spoke seriously, "I do not want to hurt you Am- Alfred." The violet eyed man shrugged. "But this night has been surprising for us both, da?" He returned to untying his pants. "I was not prepared and we must improvise."

_Aloe? Prepared? Improvise?_ Oh damn. America thought quick. The blonde had been with other nations before, but it had been a long time since he had had an intimate relationship on that level. Not to mention that he had never done…that. The United States of America wasn't about letting just anyone in, maybe it was his puritanical beginnings or his 'don't tread on me' attitude that had seen him through so many years.

Alfred didn't know exactly, but he was torn, partly wanting to know his newfound unexpected love in the most intimate way, partly terrified of giving himself over to someone else in such a way, He was America. He stood for a strong military, brave and resilient people, freedom and all that! However…he was also Alfred…lover of a great cheeseburger, videogames, action movies, baseball…and Russian poems. He wanted this, but was afraid of the vulnerability it would mean…and of all nations on earth to be vulnerable with, Russia?

Russia who had been his friend during his revolution, his sort of ally during both World Wars, his bitter rival for half of the 20th century…his lover tonight?

This was the 21st century now…things were changing...

America gulped and looked back to Russia, setting blue eyes on violet, trying not to show his nerves. "Um..yeh." It was a pathetic affirmation, but it was all he could get out.

However, as the larger nation before him let his pants fall around knee high boots and stepped out of them, breaking the piece of aloe to free the smooth substance inside, America had second thoughts.

"Uhn-uh." It was just as pathetic a response as his agreement had been as Alfred shook his head slowly, unable to take his eyes from what was between Ivan's legs. The American might have laughed at his love otherwise, as Russia stood before him in nothing but boots and his ever present scarf. However, as it was, America had scooted back up against the tree trunk again and finally moved his eyes to meet Ivan's.

"No way. That's just..too much, I mean, damn! I'm not small, I'm totally above-average; that's…that's..just not natural!"

As Alfred shook his head and flitted his vision from Ivan's eyes down to his considerable length…and girth…and back again, The Russian felt a strange mixture of satisfaction at the look in his love's blue eyes, as well as a sinking feeling in his gut that he was not just impressive, but _too_ big for his perhaps inexperienced American.

"You have never…?" Ivan asked as he settled beside Alfred at the base of the tree.

For a moment there was no answer as America simply looked blankly at Russia. Soon, his brave façade was back in place; Alfred crossed his arms and lifted his chin proudly. "No one invades the U.S. 'Never been done! I'm impenetrable!"

To Alfred's surprise, Ivan chuckled lightly. "I hope not, mo'ee lyoubov." Before the American could make another protest the Russian had taken his chin in hand and brought their lips together. Feeling the now familiar lips on his, the tongue that brushed past to twine around his own, he melted into Ivan's kiss and the arms he suddenly felt circle his back as the Russian leaned them both back down to the mossy ground.

"Hey!" the blonde weakly protested as their lips parted and he felt the larger nation position himself between his legs. The Russian moved his lips down the inside of the American's left leg as he moved in closer. "I dunno…about this..I don't think so…" Alfred felt the lump in his throat and tried to swallow it down.

Russia's heart caught in his chest. Had they come this far to turn back now? When his soul as well as his body longed for the intimate contact with the man below him? Ivan moved his kisses up Alfred's torso, brushing his fingers along his American's partially hardened cock. Hearing the soft moan Alfred let loose, even as he argued, bolstered Ivan's courage. The violet eyed Russian wrapped his hand around his lover's length again and continuing to kiss just below the 36th parallel that divided America in two, teasing the ticklish nation's belly-button with his tongue as he brought his blushing partner to full hardness again with his hand.

It was really nearly too much. Russia's own needs were throbbing in his ears, the blood rushing through his body, He needed this release and not only that, he needed his America, his Alfred. _Mo'ee Bozhe, did he need him._ After being lonely for so long, Ivan had grown used to it, never expected to find someone to share his night with, to find love with. It was both shocking and fitting that he know found that here…with America. Who else really could understand him?

Russia closed his eyes at the feel of the back of America's smooth but firm thigh as he brushed against it, the larger nation fought his desires as long as possible, but any more would be torturous.

Hearing his partner's arguments disintegrating into quick gasps and soft moaning, Ivan ground his hips into his partner's thigh and knew the desperation showed in his eyes as he looked up into his American's flushed face. The larger nation was aware of how vulnerable he was making himself, but past the point of caring. There was nothing between them now. All the old boundaries were down long ago.

"Pazhaloosta." He wouldn't be 'Russia' now, nyet, because Russia would never beg, would never ask please. Nyet, but he would be Ivan, he reminded himself. He would be Ivan and Alfred would just be Alfred. "Pazhaloosta, Pazhaloosta, mo'ee lyoubov, mo'ee krasivee muzhchina?"

His lover's violet eyes were intense, more intense than America had ever seen. The extremity of the gaze his Russian now focused on him would have been frightening, had Alfred not also noticed the need, the fear, and the insecurity in those eyes. And was he pouting, just a little? This was the second time in all his years he'd ever seen Russia pout. The thing is, he had no idea what the hell he was saying. Breathless at the continued attentions Florida was receiving, Alfred told him as much.

"Vanya, I..uh, have no idea what you are saying…"

The intensity of the Russian's gaze only increased, as he moved closer to lean in to his American.

"Please, Please, Alfred." Ivan looked away, laying his head low on his partner's chest, He couldn't quite meet his American's eyes as he gave in. "please, my love, my beautiful man." Ivan continued, "We are just ourselves tonight, da?"

'_My love'_ Alfred's mind swam with the words his violet eyed man had spoken against his chest. His heart constricted; was that what this was, love? The American reached one hand into Ivan's silvery hair; he brushed against something soft. The rose. The soft pink wild rose was still tucked behind the Russian's ear, and had been covered by a lock of pale hair.

Gulping down his anxiety, Alfred told himself he was brave damnit, super brave, heroically brave! " Um…ok..uh, it's just that there is a lot of…yourself, Ivan."

Alfred's words were like the sound of heaven to Ivan's ears. He immediately looked back up to those blue eyes again and in a flash had sat up and pulled his American close in against his broad chest.

Alfred struggled to breathe against his lover's scarf, his legs still to either side of the larger man, the American was well aware of the size of the thing he had just agreed to take in as his own now increasingly hardened need brushed against his Russian's massive dimensions.

"Ah, mo'ee lyoubovnik! I will be careful!" The relief, glee and lusty necessity was clear in his voice as the Russian released his American, who drew in a full breathe of air before it was taken away again by his Russian love as Ivan took Alfred's lips in his own again, laying the blonde down below him against the mossy forest floor.

The ferns around them swayed in the breeze as though animated. Ivan kept his intense gaze on the beautiful American below him as he gripped his American's ready cock again, already beginning to leak with beads of precum. With his other hand, he rubbed the smooth light green substance between his fingers.

Alfred clenched his teeth, closed his eyes tight and focused on the pleasure instead of the pain as his Russian love inserted first one and then two large fingers into him.

Ivan moved his fingers slowly, careful not to cause Alfred any more pain than was necessary. The Russian's heart beat furiously in his chest at the sight of the man below him. The pain was clear on Alfred's face in the form of the clenched jaw and the tightly closed eyes Ivan so longed to see. Determined to find the spot he knew would open those eyes so like the summer sky and free his love's lips from their tight line, Ivan moved his digits smoothly against the soft muscles in search…

And then he found it.

Azure eyes flew open and Alfred's lips parted in a gasp as the American actually moved in toward his Russian love, pushing his hips down onto the fingers exploring his insides. All his nerves were on fire as the passion rushed throughout his body.

Good lord, he had never thought it would feel like this. Toes curling, hands reaching up into his hair again, Alfred arched his back against the moss and moaned his lover's name with wild abandon. America? No, he was definitely not America right now… as Alfred he could let go fully, totally give in to the pleasing motions of his Russian love and have no thought to national security, secrets, or expectations.

Just two men, who happened to be a bit more than that, losing themselves in eachother on the floor of the Russian forest.

Hearing his name coming in gasps and sobbs from the man below him was pushing Ivan over the edge. He ground his own painfully hard cock against his lover's warm thigh again as he moved his fingers inside Alfred, spreading them in preparation.

After as long as he could hold out, and hearing his partner's breath coming shorter and shorter now, the Russian withdrew his fingers from his American's warm and more relaxed entrance to coat his painfully hard length in as much aloe as he could extract from the plant. Ivan moved both hands to grip his lover's hips possessively and sure as he pressed close against the tight ring of muscle.

"You are ready mo'ee Amerikanski lyoubov?"

Ivan's voice, so usually light, was now low and impassioned. His violet eyes bright and clouded with need like two amethysts.

Alfred knew this would hurt more than the two fingers he had taken in a moment ago, but he held on to the hope that like they had, his love's proportions which so matched Ivan's size as a nation 1/6th of the Earth's surface would give way to those waves of pleasure that had washed over him just a moment ago.

The American didn't speak but held his chin high and nodded.

Both hearts beat with ferocious intensity as the Russian pressed into the American. The wind blew through the forest, stirring the leaves above them, the fronds around them, and sighed through the trees in an echo of Ivan's sharp gasp, Alfred's hiss of pain and slow exhale.

Soft violet eyes looked down to his American. His Alfred. Ivan felt lusty possessiveness flowing through his heart and wanted to see his love writhing again, pressing into him again. He was only half way in and already his intoxicating blonde was in pain.

Alfred had one hand holding onto Ivan's forearm, and one digging his nails into the birch bark behind him. The Russian reached to take the hand from the tree and guided his love to take himself in hand. "It will help." He whispered, "I do not want to cause you pain mo'ee derogoy."

Alfred admitted it did help, the pleasure relieving some of the shock of having Ivan press into him fully now, inch by inch.

_Oh this isn't gonna work…_ the American thought as his Russian love filled him, the pressure building painfully. Alfred scrunched his eyes and tried to move in someway that would lesson the pain.

_Damnit, it's just too bi-_ His thoughts ended abruptly when Ivan took his hips tighter in his large hands and began to pull back and press forward again.

He was filled, but Ivan's massive cock had managed to find that same spot his fingers had earlier. Each time he pulled back and plunged in again, Alfred was aware of nothing but the electric shock pulsing through his body as he moved against his love, spreading his legs further, pressing in and impaling himself onto Ivan's length which slid along his nerves, lighting each one on fire.

Ivan's blood ran hot, heating his cooler body as never before. His American was tight and warm and perfect. It was as though they had been made for eachother and had never known. Heavily lidded amethyst eyes stared intently into half open sapphire, Texas having slid off as his American tossed his head from side to side.

Time was a concept unknown to the two lovers as they moved together on the moss. Ivan increasing his speed as he plunged deeply into the beautiful man below him. His American love. Alfred threw his legs up atop his Russian's broad shoulders and reached a hand into Ivan's silvery hair as the taller man leaned close to take his swollen lips in another kiss.

The blonde tasted his violet eyed man's kiss and felt Ivan's scarf dangling between them. One rose petal fell between them to land on Alfred's shoulder as Ivan moved his hips in and out, hesitating to release his lover's lips.

Finally pulling back as he felt Alfred's heart beat increase against his own pounding pulse, Ivan knew he was close to losing all control and giving in to the building climax. He pressed in further, putting his strength into his actions, booted toes digging into the soft ground with each thrust of his hips.

His skin burning with what must be the most severe heat wave in Russian history, Ivan looked into his lover's eyes as they filled with tears and Alfred threw his head back against the moss crying out his Russian's name again in a garbled stream of half formed words; that southern accent that only came out when he'd been drinking slipping through. "Uhn, meh, ah…Van-nya, Ah'm gonna… Oh!

Alfred was able to hold on no longer and came fast and hot over his hand.

Feeling the warmth and current of the Mississippi splashing between them onto his abdomen, Russia closed moist violet eyes as he allowed the Volga to overflow its banks into his beautiful American, as he came hard and unrelenting into his love with a shudder and a deep contented sigh.

They stayed there in eachother's arms for a moment, breathing heavily, each reluctant to move until finally the Russian pulled himself slowly from his American love and lay down beside him on the moss.

Ivan pulled Alfred into his arms and was delighted with the smile the American turned toward him. Brushing sweat drenched golden locks back from his face, Alfred leaned in against Ivan's shoulder. "Best damn holiday. Ever."

Both men laughed and held eachother. The taller Russian leaned in to kiss his American's head but Alfred moved up to allow their worn lips to meet instead. As they broke for air, Ivan looked into his love's eyes, half open and as drowsy as his own. "The best Ivan Kupala day I have ever known, my fernflower."

Alfred pouted as he closed his eyes. "Its too bad we didn't find the real fern flower; magic, good luck and all that."

Ivan yawned and closed his violet eyes as well, holding his dear American close as he began to fade into a peaceful sleep. "It may be just a fairy story mo'ee lyoubovnik…but we can always look again next year, da?"

Russia felt more content than he ever had in his long life, and smiled softly with genuine peace as he drifted to sleep.

The wind blew around the meadow, ruffling both silver and golden locks, cooling the July air comfortably. As the breeze blew low through the long ferns surrounding the sleeping lovers, no eye saw as the inner curled fronds unfurled and grew from the center of each fern.

As the moon shown her light down onto the mossy clearing below where the Russian slept with the American in his arms, the wind coaxed each bud to open.

Pale greenish white blossoms uncurled and shone with an iridescent light.

The wind churned the air once more and the blossoms broke from their homes in each fern to waft softly on the breeze as they fell around Ivan and Alfred, who slept on unaware of the blanket of shimmering flora now covering them

….

_End of Chapter 6! One more to come and then be on the lookout for a sequel. _

_Pazhaloosta my dear, dear readers, Pazhaloosta review! I love you all and your reviews keep me going! _


	7. Chapter 7 Love is Unbounded

_Here we are, at the last installment of Ivan Kupala Day or the Search for the Fern Flower! Thank you all for reading, reviewing, etc! I just love you for it! _

_As said, there will be a sequel, however I have to finish some original works (trying to be published, don't you know.) :D And finish 'Its Just Business' my big ol' novel sized mafia story. then I'll get to sequels after I finish two of my original bits o' fiction. _

_Oh! And guess where I'm going to be on July 6th and 7th of this year? WASHINGTON DC. I'll be in the capitol of the U.S on Ivan Kupala day with Abbygreeneyes, and believe me, I'll be watching her like a hawk for pranks on Tvorila night!_

_but I'm rambling on and on, the morning awaits!_

…...

Violet eyes blinked in disbelief. "Odnako..." Ivan exclaimed under his breath. The larger man had woken before his American love who slept on, sprawled on the mossy ground, snoring loudly, still covered in little iridescent blossoms.

The sun was high overhead; they had slept late. Russia estimated the time to be late in the morning, near noon. There would be no way they could leave the forest unseen.

The violet eyed nation had already redressed and was now sitting cross-legged beside the sleeping blonde. Still amazed at the flowers he had not actually expected to find, The Russian simply turned the shimmering petals in his fingers, trying to decide if he should let the other man sleep or wake him.

Deciding that it would be best to wake Alfred and face the outside world sooner rather than later, Ivan leaned down and whispered against America's ear. "Alfred."

He slept on, completely unfazed.

Russia poked him in the side with a small smile and spoke louder. "Alfred."

Nothing. The larger nation was beginning to wonder if the snoring blonde could sleep through anything. Maybe if he called him by his country name, his lyoubov would wake. The silver haired man leaned in close again. "Amerika?"

Still nothing.

Russia's small smile took a mischievous turn. Sitting back, Ivan cleared his throat and said as loudly as he could, "Fascism is capitalism in decay!" and then building his steam as America stirred, Ivan continued, now up on one knee, "Religion is the opiate of the masses!"

Apparently that did it.

Russia broke out in a fit of giggles as America sat up in a sleepy daze and with wide, but foggy eyes exclaimed, "Wha' the...Commies! Everywhere!"

As the petals fell from his bare chest to add to the pile in his lap, Alfred stared around paranoid for a moment of secret communist plots and spies. Then, slowly taking in his surroundings and the nation across from him giggling in mirth, America realized it was not the fifties, or in fact any of the three decades following, but instead, it was the twenty-first century, and he was in a meadow, with Russia, still completely nude after what they had done the night before.

The American blushed and cleared his throat. "Dirty tricky way to wake someone up..." the blonde grumbled, though the corners of his mouth had begun to twitch upward into a smile.

"Dobra Utra Amerika." Russia continued to chuckle into his scarf.

Looking down, Alfred noticed the flowers all over him. in his lap. around his legs, in fact, reaching up into his hair, he felt them on top of his head, and even a few on his shoulders.

"Wow Vanya, you didn't have to cover me in flowers, I never knew you were such a romantic." He grinned, looking back up. "I musta been awesome last night, huh? Being with America; it's a life changing event." Alfred leaned forward and plucked a stray petal from Ivan's silvery hair.

"Mmm..." Russia cupped America's chin and brought their lips together. Alfred's lips were soft and tasted just a sweetly of Georgian wine as they had the night before. Reluctantly breaking for air, Ivan brushed his American's nose with the blossom in his hand. "There is still much you do not know about me, Amerika." The taller nation stood and held a hand down to the still seated American. "But I did not put these flowers on you. I awoke with them over myself as well."

"Huh?" Alfred looked around as he stood and made to gather his clothes still in the hastily made pile beside the birch tree. "Then where'd they come from?"

Reluctantly, Ivan tore his eyes away from the other's body; America was even more beautiful by the light of the sun and suddenly Russia didn't want to ever return to the world outside the forest.

Ivan motioned to the unfurled ferns silently and watched as Alfred's baby blues grew wider and wider.

"The fern flower? No way..." America stopped just as he was tying the wide legged pants back on and beamed a shining smile. "Of course they are! I told you we could find them!"

Russia smiled as he walked to his American love. "It seems they found us, da?" Ivan picked up the cowboy hat Alfred loved and held it out to him as the blonde pulled on the embroidered tunic and refastened the sash.

America shrugged before bending to lace his boots. "Same thing, man!" He smiled up at Ivan, "So magic and good luck and all that to us!"

His boots laced, Alfred threw one arm over Ivan's broad shoulders and leaned in to the larger nation with a wink. "I wouldn't say no to extra good luck!"

"Da," his violet eyed love replied more seriously as the two powerful nations prepared to re-enter the world outside the magic of the forest, "We both will need some good fortune."

Russia suddenly turned toward America, pulling the once enemy in close. "America," Ivan stopped himself, "Alfred," his violet eyes looked deep into his lover's blue. Russia had been alone far too long; he was not about to lose what he felt was a possibility for much more than a one night affair in the woods. Though he was still somewhat surprised to see he had fallen for America of all the nations in the world, there was something between them that they alone seemed to share, a certain intensity that others couldn't handle.

"Alfred, I would like," Ivan felt his face grow warm, before he mentally shook off the sudden insecurity. _yolki-palki! He was Russia, he would not be given to bouts of doubt, especially not after..._Getting ahold on his emotions again, Russia spoke seriously to America.

"I would like to continue seeing you." Regardless of his bravado, the broad nation toyed with the ends of his scarf as he waited for the American's reaction.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Um, duh!" America squeezed his Russian around the waist tightly. "You better!" Alfred laughed fully.

Ivan joined his small smile to Alfred's laugh as the two continued through the woods, arm in arm.

After a while, walking through the shade of the trees, feeling the warm July air of southwestern Russia, Ivan turned to Alfred again. "You know many will not be pleased with our...relationship."

Rolling his eyes, America looked to Russia. "You think?" Alfred then surprised the taller Slavic nation with a sudden kiss to the cheek. Laughing again, America pulled Russia by the hand, "Really Vanya, when have I cared in the slightest what everyone else thinks?"

He continued forward, but turned realizing the pale haired Russian wasn't moving. As soon as Alfred had turned with a quizzical expression, Ivan yanked on the hand holding his to bring his American back in to his arms.

"For once, Amerika, I am glad to hear that." Russia sighed.

With Alfred's back against his chest, Ivan recited the entire poem he had only spoken half of the day before. Knowing the American in his arms had held a secret love of Russian Poetry, he whispered low into the blonde's ear.

"In the world, lighted

By Poets and Sunflowers,

I have found you, boy!

Is it because of your heart,

Filled with the sunrise's pulse?"

The Russian spoke in English for his American love's understanding. Feeling Alfred relax in his arms, Ivan continued, thinking with satisfaction that Martynow's poems would be pulled from Alfred's shelf more often than Shakespeare's ever were.

"The world in love needs not the frontier lines

That hate used to nourish.

May emblems of state, coats of arms interwine

To blossom and flourish!

So love, notwithstanding, the flowers you take

Shall not be confounded,

But testify: borders no difference make,

For love is unbounded."

_Oh damn, _America thought as he felt himself melt against the man behind him. _Why does he have to make it sound so sexy? _Even if the words came out a little on the creepy side, sounding suspiciously like 'become one with Russia.' the words the Russian had spoken so softly in his ear set Alfred's heart to speeding in his chest, and the American didn't have to remind himself why he'd never admitted to his collection of Russian poems before.

Turning to face Ivan, Alfred grinned and said the first thing that came to mind. His country was certainly not lacking in talent afterall,

"Nobody living can ever stop me,

as I go walking that freedom highway;

nobody living can ever make me turn back,

this land was made for you and me!"

Russia smiled down at the slightly shorter nation. "I know this song. 'This land is my land...this land is your land, da?"

"You make it sound all commu-." Alfred wanted to clarify that he had not, absolutely not, invited 'Russia' to have any of 'America's' land, but his words were lost as the larger Russian had pressed him against a nearby tree; their lips once again finding eachother's in the greenish shade of the secluded forest.

It was some time later that the two finally emerged from the woods, the festival site was nearly gone, only the large circle of ash that had been the bonfire and scattered wreaths of flowers attested to it having occurred at all.

Russia was relieved to not have to deal with either his older sister's obvious approval, or his younger sister's dangerous misery.

Or so he had thought.

Alfred had moved forward and picked something up from the ground, he now was walking back, holding a plate that had been wrapped in cloth in his hands.

It had been the red, white, and blue cloth that had gotten America's attention first,only to see that it was clearly Ivan's flag and not his, Alfred held it out. "Looks like someone left you something." He worked to keep his tone neutral though the American had instantly felt the stirrings of jealousy in his gut, _Just who left what for his Vanya?_

_How interesting, _the Russian thought as he accepted the plate. _Is that jealousy?_ Ivan smiled his small smile, thinking happily that he had never had someone aside from his terrifying sister be jealous over him before, _And Amerika thinks I am possessive._

As soon as Ivan unwrapped the plate, he saw a note which sat atop two pieces of toast covered in forest berry jam.

"Yobaniy Poland." Ivan crumpled the note his older sister had left him and stuck it in his pocket.

"Huh?" America was looking on not sure what exactly Poland had done, but recognizing the ominous aura beginning to radiate from his Russian love. "Hey now, remember he's my ally, ok?" Alfred's eyes were wide, thinking how his military was stretched thin as it was, "Do not go attacking Poland- It'll only be bad for all involved, alright?"

The dark purple aura began to dissipate; Ivan handed Alfred one of the pieces of toast. "Nyet, I will not...officially..." His violet eyes looked off as an expression of light concentration came over him.

….While America stared at Russia and tried to get his attention, In Warsaw, Feliks suddenly doubled up, holding his stomach. "Like, what the hell?" He dropped the cookies he'd been sharing with Lithuania as the sudden stomach ache came over him. …...

"Ah." Russia's attention returned to America, who's blue eyes were wide. "Um," Alfred began, "I don't really want to know what you just did, do I?"

Ivan smiled slightly wider in response. "It seems everyone already knows what happened in the forest. At least, that we spent the night together." Sighing at the prospect of the conversation he would have to have with Ukraine, Russia went on, "The toast is from my sister. She sent her, ah, congratulations on our...new relations."

Wrapping an arm around the American as they walked toward the train station, the Russian continued, "She is thinking you will influence me." Ivan's tone made it clear that this was not going to happen.

"Yeah, there'll be a Mcdonald's on _every _corner in Moscow in no time!" Alfred laughed as Ivan glared at him. "Kidding! I'm kidding!" The American's smile grew ridiculously wide, "There will have to be a Burger King on every other corner for economic competition, of course!"

The Russian rolled his eyes; "I will not have you deface my capitol in such a way."

Continuing to argue goodnaturedly, each knowing the other was joking as the subjects stayed away from more serious international affairs, the two powerful nations boarded the train. Ivan dreading both conversations with his sisters, America wondering just how many messages would have been left on his answering machine at home.

As the next few months went by, both Alfred and Ivan communicated as often as possible by phone. There had been a lot of damage control to do as neither of their bosses liked the rumors flying around the world that America and Russia had entered into a secret alliance of sorts late one July night. As much as friendly relations were being promoted, neither President much appreciated the sudden influx of accusations coming in from slighted allies and trading partners.

Alfred had done pretty well to avoid both England and France, said not a single clear word to Egypt and the rest of the Middle East, and was thankful Canada had gracefully not asked him, or had he? Most of the other nations hadn't called and Alfred was immeasurably thankful for that; America couldn't avoid the world long.

Russia counted on his ability to intimidate and was able to deal with rumours from those brave or stupid enough to ask with a single look. He had heard that Georgia and Ukraine were chatting a lot more frequently though neither brought any thing up to him; only Belarus wouldn't let up. Ivan shuddered at the memory. He'd locked her out but knew she'd be back. She always came back.

…..

And so it was, that as the next world meeting began in early September which was supposed to address the newly emerging flu viruses, America met with Russia beforehand. They had decided to go in together and deal with the situation at once.

The two nations had hide out while everyone arrived and just before they would be considered late, Ivan and Alfred strode forward toward the doors.

"Ready, lyoubov?" The violet eyed man asked as he placed one hand to the door.

"'Born ready." his American love responded, placing his hand across from Ivan's on the other door.

Shoulders back, heads straight, America and Russia both knew how to take command of a situation, particularly one of which the rest of the world disapproved.

Together, they pushed open the doors and walked confidently inside.

Immediately upon their entrance, America felt all eyes turn their way. A few were snapping pictures and he knew they'd most likely make the top of international news tomorrow.

As Germany was at the front, attempting to bring everyone's attention back to the topic they had only just began to address, England leaned across to America as he and Russia took their seats. "You know it's bad form not to return calls you wanker."

"Oh leave them alone Rosbif." France tsked from a few seats down. Francis winked in their direction as he continued, "Amour, it is ze heatbeat of life, bringing even 'ze most deadly of enemies togezer!"

Before America could do more than blush and Russia had just begun to feel like a press conference with no questions allowed might have been a better plan, England dismissed what France had said with the wave of a hand, "What a total load rubbish! They'll be at eachother again in no time and we'll bloody well have nuclear winter by Christmas!"

Russia stood and pulled his pipe from within the long coat and began chanting; Ivan's violet eyes darkened as he glared at Arthur. "kolkolkolkolkol..."

The Brit stood as well, "Right, then."

The larger Russian hit the palm of one hand with the metal pipe held in the other as the Englishman across from him rolled up his sleeves and prepared for the attack.

"Ahem."

Before a punch could be landed, Both men turned toward the podium, where unnoticed, America had taken over from a very disgruntled Germany who stood to the side, fuming and looking to his watch. "America, vill you at least hurry, ve are already completely behind schedule." Ludwig spoke through his teeth already tired of hearing about Russia and America and what they had or hadn't done in July.

Alfred grinned seeing all eyes turn his way, soaking in the attention. It was great now, but he knew as soon as he said what he was about to say the attention wouldn't be so wanted...

This wasn't the plan he'd come up with Russia, no, Alfred had just decided to hero it up and clear the air with some good ol' fashioned straight shootin'. He'd tell it like it was, lay down all his cards. He wasn't about to get blamed for a sudden war between the UK and the Russian Federation as there was no doubt the photos and various "witnesses" would blow the whole thing out of proportion!

"Ahem." America cleared his throat. He winked to Russia, who stood now staring up at him with a slightly worried expression.

"I would like to address certain rumours." Alfred paused dramatically for effect. "Certain rumours that have been circulated by some; I will not name names." He lifted his chin saintly before continuing. "I am here to put your fears at ease. There is no secret alliance, there are no deals being brokered for the buy back of Alaska." The American jabbed his thumb to his chest. "That's my state!" Alfred cleared his throat again, "Um, yeah, so there's no new world order, no sneaky underhanded deals, uh.." He grew slightly more serious, "nothing to do with the, uh, wars I'm currently in, and I'm sure as hell NOT going commie." He continued, blushing slightly, "This was more a, uh, cultural interest than political."

America grinned now, somewhat nervously as he glanced down from the podium.

He could see Japan recording his whole speech, China looking from Russia's slight frown and nearly anxious expression to America and back, France was arguing quietly with England as Canada tried in vain to separate them, Both Italy and Greece had fallen asleep as Germany's face was slowly turning red in agitation. Nearly everyone else was turned toward him, waiting for him to continue either interested or annoyed or somewhere on the spectrum between the two.

America stepped to the side of the podium and rocked on his heels, his thumbs between the belt loops in his pants. "But something did happen that night in July." Alfred's grin spread wider, his eyes sparkled, as he thought, _Just go for it, head first!_

"I, um, well." America found Russia's eyes and ignored all the others. "Damnit, I love Ivan..._Vanya_," Alfred corrected, calling the object of his affections by the larger nation's nickname, "He's a stone cold hottie, and I don't care if he's a communist or not!

Instant pandemonium broke out across the room.

But America paid no attention to the rest of the room. Blue eyes were still locked only on those of now widened violet as Ivan walked toward the podium. The Russian dropped his pipe to the ground beside Alfred. Not caring in the slightest that Japan and probably several others by now were recording, _he'd get those cameras one way or another and destroy them_, Ivan couldn't believe the words struggling to burst free from his mouth, but knew they were true even as they shocked him.

Standing now inches from Alfred, his intoxicating, infuriating American, who was bound to cause him unending trouble, Ivan spoke low so that only those nearest had any hope of hearing him. "You love me?"

The blonde felt himself blushing furiously now, just as much as he had during Russia's dance, _oh damn,_ he thought, _now I've got that in my mind, _as America felt the heat reach his ears. With usual heroic bravado, Alfred threw his arms around Ivan's neck. "Of course I do, What, you didn't know?" The American began to laugh but soon found his laughter cut short as his Russian love brought their lips together, lifting the slightly shorter man a few inches from the floor.

As soon as he had sat him back down again and they broke for air, Ivan's violet eyes were glowing in intensity as he spoke, and in the now silence of the stunned room, all heard.

"Ya tozhe tebya lyoublyou, Alfred." With the familiar small smile, the Russian translated for his American. "I love you too." Ivan continued, his arms still low around America's waist, "You should really learn Russian now, da? And how many times do I tell you I am not technically communis-"

But it was now Russia's turn to be interrupted as America jumped up into his arms as he had done in the forest. As the two influential nations swayed where they stood, wrapped in eachother, tongues twisting together as their arms were twisting around their bodies, chaos once erupted around the two lovers.

Neither cared in the slightest about whatever super virus needed discussing as Germany had regained the stand and bellowed, "Order! Order! Gott Verdammt, this is a meeting!" The irate German turned to the couple, "Get back to your seats und compose yourselves!"

Still lost in eachother they paid no heed, and were only too happy to allow themselves to be thrown from the meeting.

As the door closed with a resounding bang, even shutting out England and France's now loudly continued fight, and Germany's "Scheiße!" as he closed it, America reluctantly released his Russian love.

"Alfred, do you have any idea what you have done with that speech? We will each be working constantly to repair the damage for at least another month." Ivan shook his head, but still smiling continued to hold his Americanski close.

Running his hand through pale silvery hair, over the ear where the rose had been, Alfred grinned. "So...it's September now, you'll just have to come visit me for Halloween."

...

_And with that Ivan Kupala day ends, but the two lovebirds look forward to an American Halloween! I won't give anything away, but believe me what the two decide to do will change things quite a bit and piss off...well everyone, but they won't care in the slightest! (: _

_Spasiba and THANK YOU for all the reviews, faves, and alerts - it makes me feel all fuzzy inside! _

_Before I go, I did get a review concerning the Russian I have used throughout the story; I am not the best at clear phonetic spelling, but I assume the avarage reader wants romanized versions of the cyrillic, so I apologize to any Russian speaking readers who may have been confused by some of my words, or mistakes I may have made. I've had classes, but of course, English is my native tongue and I am still learning more Russian all the time. If you see a mistake, please dont hesitate to send me a PM and correct me (: I'd be most appreciative as you would be helping me out as I continue to learn more of this beautiful language._

_The Cyrillic words I romanized are here for clarity: I think I'll probably do this from now on, just cause it's way easier and more informative in general._

доброе утро - Dobra Utra (like Ootruh) Good Morning

Однако - odnako - exclamation, lit. "however", used to express amazement.

Ёлки палки - Yolki palki - for crying out loud!

Ёбаный - Yobabiy adj. form of 'fucking' as in "that fucking poland!"

Я тоже тебя люблю - I love you too.

Poem and Song used:

Love is Unbounded - Leonid Martynow.

This land is my land - Woody Guthrie

_Again, I hope you all have enjoyed reading this, I know I have enjoyed writing it immensely! Please, Pazhaloosta _(Пожалуйста)_ review, my dear sweet readers, I love ya so!_


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